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BOND  FELT  SOMETHING  HARD 
PRESS  INTO  HIS  SPINE... 


At  the  same  time  a  thick  voice  said  softly,  urgently, 
just  behind  his  right  ear: 

"This  is  a  gun,  Monsieur".  It  is  silent.  It  can  blow 
the  base  of  your  spine  off  without  a  sound.  With- 
draw your  bet  before  I  count  to  ten." 

"Un." 

Bond  turned  his  head.  There  he  was,  leaning  for- 
ward, smiling  broadly  under  his  black  moustache  as 
if  he  were  wishing  Bond  luck. 

"Deux." 

Bond  looked  across.  Le  Chiffre  was  watching  him. 
He  was  waiting,  waiting  for  Bond's  hand  to  gesture 
to  the  croupier,  or  else  for  Bond  suddenly  to  slump 
backward  in  his  chair... 


James  Bond  books  published  by  Berkley 


...by  Ian  Fleming 

CASINO  ROYALE 
DIAMONDS  ARE  FOREVER 
DOCTOR  NO 
FOR  YOUR  EYES  ONLY 
FROM  RUSSIA  WITH  LOVE 
GOLDFINGER 
LIVE  AND  LET  DIE 
MOONRAKER 
THE  SPY  WHO  LOVED  ME 
THUNDERBALL  , 

...by  John  Gardner 

FOR  SPECIAL  SERVICES 
ICEBREAKER 
LICENSE  RENEWED 
ROLE  OF  HONOR 


IAN 

FLEMING'S 

CASINO 
ROYAU 


BERKLEY  BOOKS,  NEW  YORK 


This  Berkley  book  contains  the  complete 

text  of  the  original  hardcover  edition. 
It  has  been  completely  reset  in  a  typeface 
designed  for  easy  reading  and  was  printed 
from  new  film. 

CASINO  ROYALE 

A  Berkley  Book  /  published  by  arrangement  with 
Macmillan  Publishing  Company,  Inc. 

PRINTING  HISTORY 

Macmillan  edition  published  1953 
Jove  edition  /  July  1980 
Berkley  edition  /  May  1982 
Ninth  printing  /  October  1986 

All  rights  reserved. 
Copyright  ©  1953  by  Glidrose  Productions  Ltd. 
This  book  may  not  be  reproduced  in  whole  or  in  part, 
by  mimeograph  or  any  other  means,  without  permission. 
For  information  address:  Macmillan  Publishing  Co.,  Inc., 
866  Third  Avenue,  New  York,  NY  10022. 

ISBN:  0-425-08162-1 

A  BERKLEY  BOOK  8  TM  757,375 
Berkley  Books  are  published  by  The  Berkley  Publishing  Group, 
200  Madison  Avenue,  New  York,  NY  10016. 
The  name  "BERKLEY"  and  the  stylized  "B"  with  design 
are  trademarks  belonging  to  Berkley  Publishing  Corporation. 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


CONTENTS 


1  THE SECRET  AGENT  1 

2  DOSSIER  FOR  M.  8 

3  NUMBER  007  18 

4  'L'ENNEMI  ECOUTE'  22 

5  THE  GIRL  FROM  HEADQUARTERS  29 

6  TWO  MEN  IN  STRAW  HATS  36 

7  ROUGE  ETNOIR  41 

8  PINK  LIGHTS  AND  CHAMPAGNE  50 

9  THE  GAME  IS  BACCARAT  56 

10  THE  HIGH  TABLE  64 

11  MOMENT  OF  TRUTH  71 

12  THE  DEADLY  TUBE  78 

13  'A  WHISPER  OF  LOVE,  85 

A  WHISPER  OF  HATE' 

14  'LA  VIE  EN  ROSE?*  93 

15  BLACK  HARE  AND  GREY  HOUND  98 

16  THE  CRAWLING  OFTHE  SKIN  103 

17  'MY  DEAR  BOY'  110 


1 8  A  CRAGLIKE  FACE  120 

19  THE  WHITE  TENT  124 

20  THE  NATURE  OF  EVIL  131 

21  VESPER  139 

22  THE  HASTENING  SALOON  147 

23  TIDE  OF  PASSION  154 

24  'FRUIT  DEFENDU'  ;  159 

25  'BLACK-PATCH'  164 

26  'SLEEP  WELL,  MY  DARLING'  170 

27  THE  BLEEDING  HEART  174 


v. 


CHAPTER  1 

The  Sedret  Agent 


The  scent  and  smoke  and  sweat  of  a  casino  are 
nauseating  at  three  in  the  morning.  Then  the  soul- 
erosion  produced  by  high  gambling— a  compost  of 
greed  and  fear  and  nervous  tension — becomes  unbear- 
able, and  the  senses  awake  and  revolt  from  it. 

James  Bond  suddenly  knew  that  he  was  tired.  He 
always  knew  when  his  body  or  his  mind  had  had 
enough,  and  he  always  acted  on  the  knowledge.  This 
helped  him  to  avoid  staleness  and  the  sensual  bluntness 
that  breeds  mistakes. 

He  shifted  himself  unobtrusively  away  from  the 
roulette  he  had  been  playing  and  went  to  stand  for  a 
moment  at  the  brass  rail  which  surrounded  breast-high 
the  top  table  in  the  salle  privee. 

Le  Chiffre  was  :  still  playing  and  still,  apparently, 
winning.  There  was  an  untidy  pile  of  flecked  hundred- 
mille  plaques  in  front  of  him.  In  the  shadow  of  his  thick 
left  arm  there  nestled  a  discreet  stack  of  the  big  yellow 
ones  worth  half  a  million  francs  each. 


1 


2 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Bond -watched  the  curious,  impressive  profile  for  a 
time,  and  then  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  to  lighten  his 
thoughts  and  moved  away. 

The  barrier  surrounding  the  caisse  comes  as  high  as 
your  chin,  and  the  caissier,  who  is  generally  nothing 
more  than  a  minor  bank  clerk,  sits  on  a  stool  and  dips 
into  his  piles  of  notes  and  plaques.  These  are  ranged  on 
shelves.  They  are  on  a  level,  behind  the  protecting 
barrier*  with  your  groin.  The  caissier  has  a  cosh  and  a 
gun  to  protect  him,  and  to  heave  over  the  barrier  and 
steal  some  notes  and  then  vault  back  and  get  out  of  the 
Casino  through  the  passages  and  doors  would  be  im- 
possible. And  the  caissiers  generally  work  in  pairs. 

Bond  reflected  on  the  problem  as  he  collected  the 
sheaf  of  hundred-thousand  and  then  the  sheaves  of  ten- 
thousand-franc  notes.  With  another  part  of  his  mind,  he 
had  a  vision  of  tomorrow's  regular  morning  meeting  of 
the  Casino  committee. 

'Monsieur  Le  Chiffre  made  two  million.  He  played 
his  usual  game.  Miss  Fairchild  made  a  million  an  hour 
and  then  left.  She  executed\hree  bancos  of  Monsieur  Le 
Chiffre  within  an  hour  and  then  left.  She  played  with 
coolness.  Monsieur  le  Vicomte  de  Villorin  made  one 
million  two  at  roulette.  He  was  playing  the  maximum  on 
the  first  and  last  dozens.  He  was  lucky.  Then  the 
Englishman,  Mister  Bond,  increased  his  winnings  to 
exactly  three  million  over  the  two  days.  He  was  playing 
a  progressive  system  on  red  at  table  five.  Duclos,  the 
chef  de  partie,  has  the  details.  It  seems  that  he  is  per- 
severing and  pays  in  maximums.  He  has  luck.  His 
nerves  seem  good.  On  the  soiree,  the  chemin-de-fer  won 
x,  the  baccarat  won.y  and  the  roulette  won  z.  The  boule, 
which  was  again  badly  frequented,  still  makes  its  ex- 
penses.' 

'Merci,  Monsieur  Xavier. ' 

'Merci,  Monsieur  le  President.' 

Or  something  like  that,  thought  Bond  as  he  pushed 


THE  SECRET AGENT 


3 


his  way  through  the  swing  doors  of  the  salle  privee  and 
nodded  to  the  bored  man  in  evening  clothes  whose  job  it 
is  to  bar  your  entry  and  your  exit  and  the  electric  foot- 
switch  which  can  lock  the  door  at  any  hint  of  trouble. 

And  the  Casino  committee 'would  balance  its  books 
and  break  up  to  its  homes  or  cafSs  for  lunch. 

As  for  robbing  the  caisse,  in  which  Bond  himself  was 
not  personally  concerned,  but  only  interested,  he-  re- 
flected that  it  would  take  ten  good  men,  that  they  would 
certainly  have  to  kill  one  or  two  employees,  and  that 
anyway  you  probably  couldn't  find  ten  non-squeal 
killers  in  France,  or  in  any  other  country  for  the  matter 
of  that. 

As  he  gave  a  thousand  francs  to  the  'vestiaire'  and 
walked  down  the  steps  of  the  Casino,  Bond  made  up  his 
mind  that  Le  Chiffre  would  in  no  circumstances  try  to 
rob  the  caisse;  and  he  put  the  contingency  out  of  his 
mind.  Instead  he  explored  his  present  physical  sen- 
sations. He  felt  the  dry,  uncomfortable  gravel  under  his 
evening  shoes,  the  bad(  harsh  taste  in  his  mouth,  and  the 
slight  sweat  under  his  arms.  He  could  feel  his  eyes  filling 
their  sockets.  The  front  of  his  face,  his  nose  and  an- 
trum, were  congested.  He  breathed  the  sweet  night  air 
deeply  and  focused  his  senses  and  his  wits.  He  wanted  to 
know  if  anyone  had  searched  his  room  since  he  had  left 
it  before  dinner. 

.  He  walked  across  the  broad  boulevard  and  through 
the  gardens  to  the  Hotel  Splendide.  He  smiled  at  the 
concierge  who  gave  him  his  key— No.  45  on  the  first 
floor — and  took  the  cable. 
It  was  from  Jamaica  and  read: 


KINGSTON  J  A  XXXX  XXXXXX  XXXX  XXX 
BOND  SPLENDIDE  ROYALE-LES-EAUX  SEINE  IN- 
FERIEURE    HAVANA-  CIGAR    PRODUCTION  ALL 
CUBAN  FACTORIES  1915  TEN  MILLION  REPEAT  TEN 


4  CASINO  ROYALE 

MILLION  STOP  HOPE  THIS  FIGURE  YOU  REQUIRE 
REGARDS 

DASILVA 


This  meant  that  ten  million  francs  was  on  the  way  to 
him.  It  was  the  reply  to  a  request  Bond  had  sent  that  af- 
ternoon through  Paris  to  his  headquarters  in  London 
asking  for  more  funds.  Paris  had  spoken  to  London 
where  Clements,  the  head  of  Bond's  department,  had 
spoken  to  M.  who  had  smiled  wryly  and  told  'The 
Broker'  to  fix  it  with  the  Treasury. 

Bond  had  once  worked  in  Jamaica,  and  his  cover  on 
the  Royale  assignment  was  that  of  a  very  rich  client  of 
Messrs.  Caffery,  the  principal  import  and  export  firm 
of  Jamaica.  So  he  was  being  controlled  through 
Jamaica,  through  a  taciturn  man  who  was  head  of  the 
picture  desk  on  the  Daily  Gleaner,  the  famous 
newspaper  of  the  Caribbean. 

This  man  on  the  Gleaner,  whose  name  was.Fawcett, 
had  been  bookkeeper  for  one  of  the  leading  turtle- 
fisheries  on  the  Cayman  Islands.  One  of  the  men  from 
the  Caymans  who  had  volunteered  on  the  outbreak  of 
war,  he  had  ended  up  as  a  Paymaster's  clerk  in  a  small 
naval  intelligence  organization  in  Malta.  At  the  end  of 
the  war,  when,  with  a  heavy  heart,  he  was  about  to 
return  to  the  Caymans,  he  was  spotted  by  the  section  of 
the  Secret  Service  concerned  with  the  Caribbean.  He 
was  strenuously  trained  in  photography  and  in  some 
other  arts  and,  with  the  quiet  connivance  of  an  in- 
fluential man  in  Jamaica,  found  his  way  to  the  picture 
desk  of  the  Gleaner. 

In  the  intervals  between  sifting  photographs  sub- 
mitted by  the  great  agencies— Keystone,  Wide  World, 
Universal,  I.N.P.,  and  Reuter-Photo — he  would  get 
peremptory  instructions  by  telephone  from  a  man  he 
had  never  met  to  carry  out  certain  simple  operations 
requiring  nothing  but  absolute  discretion,  speed,  and 


THE  SECRET  AGENT 


5 


accuracy.  For  these  occasional  services  he  received 
twenty  pounds  a  month  paid  into  his  account  with  the 
Royal  Bank  of  Canada  by  a  fictitious  relative  in 
England. 

Fawcett's  present  assignment  was  to  relay  im- 
mediately to  Bond,  full  rates,  the  text  of  messages  which 
he  received  at  home  by  telephone  from  his  anonymous 
contact.  He  had  been  told  by  this  contact  that  nothing 
he  would  be  asked  to  send  would  arouse  the  suspicion  of 
the  Jamaican  post  office.  So  he  was  not  surprised  to 
find  himself  suddenly  appointed  string  correspondent 
for  the  'Maritime  Press  and  Photo  Agency,'  with  press- 
collect  facilities  to  France  and  England,  on  a  further 
monthly  retainer  of  ten  pounds. 

He  felt  secure  and,  encouraged,  had  visions  of  a 
B.E.M.  and  made  the  first  payment  on  a  Morris  Minor. 
He  also  bought  a  green  eyeshade  which  he  had  long 
coveted,  and  which  helped  him  to  impose  his  personality 
on  the  picture  desk. , 

Some  of  this  background  to  his  cable  passed  through 
Bond's  mind.  He  was  used  to  oblique  control  and  rather 
liked  it.  He  felt  it  featherbedded  him  a  little,  allowed 
him  to  give  or  take  an  hour  or.  two  in  his  com- 
munications with  M.  He  knew  that  this  was  probably  a 
fallacy,  that  probably  there  was  another  member  of  the 
Service  at  Royale-les-Eaux  who  was  reporting  in- 
dependently, but  it  did  give  the  illusion  that  he  wasn't 
only  150  miles  across  the  Channel  from  that  deadly  of- 
fice building  near  Regent's  Park,  being  watched  and 
judged  by  those  few  cold  brains  that  made  the  whole 
show  work.  Just  as  Fawcett,  the  Cayman  Islander  in 
Kingston,  knew  that  if  he  bought  that  Morris  Minor 
outright  instead  of  signing  the  hire-purchase  agreement, 
someone  in  London  would  probably  know  and  want  to 
know  where  the  money  had  come  from. 

Bond  read  the  cable  twice.  He  tore  a  telegraph  form 
off  the;  pad  on  the  desk  (why  give  them  carbon  copies?) 
and  wrote  his  reply  in  capital  letters: 


6 


CASINO  ROYALE 


THANKS  INFORMATION  SHOULD  SUFFICE 

BOND. 

He  handed  this  to  the  concierge  and  put  the  cable 
signed  'Dasilva'  in  his  pocket.  The  employers  (if  any)  of 
the  concierge  could  bribe  a  copy  out  of  the  local  post  of- 
fice, if  the  concierge  hadn't  already  steamed  the  en- 
velope open  or  read  the  cable  upside  down  in  Bond's 
hands. 

He  took  his  key  and  said  good  night  and  turned  to  the 
stairs,  shaking  his  head  at  the  liftman.  Bond  knew  what 
an  obliging  danger-signal  a  lift  could  be.  He  didn't  ex- 
pect anyone  to  be  moving  on  the  first  floor,  but  he 
preferred  to  be  prudent. 

Walking  quietly  up  on  the  balls  of  his  feet,  he  re- 
gretted the  hubris  of  his  reply  to  M.  via  Jamaica.  As  a 
gambler  he  knew  it  was  a  mistake  to  rely  on  too  small  a 
capital.  Anyway,  M.  probably  wouldn't  let  him  have 
any  more.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  turned  off  the 
stairs  into  the  corridor  and  walked  softly  to  the  door  of 
his  room. 

Bond  knew  exactly  where  the  switch  was,  and  it  was 
with  one  flow  of  motion  that  he  stood  on  the  threshold 
with  the  door  full  open,  the  light  on  and  a  gun  in  his 
hand.  The  safe,  empty  room  sneered  at  him.  He  ignored 
the  half-open  door  of  the  bathroom  and,  after  locking 
himself  in,  he  turned  up  the  bed-light  and  the  mirror- 
light  and  threw  his  gun  on  the  settee  beside  the  window. 
Then  he  bent  down  and  inspected  one  of  his  own  black 
hairs  which  still  lay  undisturbed  where  he  had  left  it 
before  dinner,  wedged  into  the  drawer  of  the  writing- 
desk. 

Next  he  examined  a  faint  trace  of  talcum  powder  on 
the  inner  rim  of  the  porcelain  handle  of  the  clothes  cup- 
board. It  appeared  immaculate.  He  went  into  the 
bathroom,  lifted  the  cover  of  the  lavatory  cistern  and 


THE SECRET  AGENT 


7 


verified  the  level  of  the  water  against  a  small  scratch  on 
the  copper  ball-cock. 

Doing  alL  this,  inspecting  these  minute  burglar- 
alarms,  did  not  make  him  feel  foolish  or  self-conscious. 
He  was  a  secret  agent,  and  still  alive  thanks  to  his  exact 
attention  to  the  detail  of  his  profession.  Routine 
precautions  were  to  him  no  more  unreasonable  than 
they  would  be  to  a  deep-sea  diver  or  a  test  pilot,  or  to 
any  man  earning  danger-money. 

Satisfied  that  his  room  had  not  been  searched  while 
he  was  at  the  Casino,  Bond  undressed  and  took  a  cold 
shower.  Then  he  lit  his  seventieth  cigarette  of  the  day 
and  sat  down  at  the  writing-table  with  the  thick  wad  of 
his  stake  money  and  winnings  beside  him  and  entered 
some  figures  in  a  small  notebook.  Over  the  two  days' 
play,  he  was  up  exactly  three  million  francs.  In  London 
he  had  been  issued  with  ten  million,  and  he  had  asked 
London  for  a  further  ten.  With  this  on  its  way  to  the 
local  branch  of  the  Credit  Lyonnais,  his  working  capital 
amounted  to  twenty-three  million  francs,  or  some 
twenty-three  thousand  pounds. 

For  a  few  moments  Bond  sat  motionless,  gazing  out 
of  the  "window  across  the  dark  sea;  then  he  shoved  the 
bundle  of  banknotes  under  the  pillow  of  the  ornate 
single  bed,  cleaned  his  teeth,  turned  out  the  lights  and 
climbed  with  relief  between  the  harsh  French  sheets.  For 
ten  minutes  he  lay  on  his  left  side  reflecting  on  the 
events  of  the  day.  Then  he  turned  over  and  focused  his 
mind  towards  the  tunnel  of  sleep. 

His  last  action  was  to  slip  his  right  hand  under  the 
pillow  until  it  rested  under  the  butt  of  the  .38  Colt 
Police  Positive  with  the  sawn  barrel.  Then  he  slept,  and 
.  with  the  warmth  and  humour  of  his  eyes  extinguished 
his  features  relapsed  into  a  taciturn  mask,  ironical, 
brutal,  and  cold. 


CHAPTER  2 

Dossier  for  M. 


Two  weeks  before,  this  memorandum  had  gone 
from  Station  S.  of  the  Secret  Service  to  M.,  who  was 
then  and  is  today  head  of  this  adjunct  to  the  British 
defence  ministries: 

To:  M. 

From:  Head  of  S. 

Subject:  A  project  for  the  destruction  of  Monsieur 
Le  Chiffre  (alias  'The  Number,'  'Herr  Hum- 
mer,' 'Herr  Ziffer,'  etc.),  one  of  the  Opposi- 
tion's chief  agents  in  France  and  undercover 
Paymaster  of  the  'Syndicat  des  Ouvriers 
d' Alsace,'  the  communist-controlled  trade 
union  in  the  heavy  and  transport  industries  of 
Alsace  and,  as  we  know,  an  important  fifth  col- 
umn in  the  event  of  war  with  Redland. 

Documentation:  Head  of  Archives'  biography  of 
Le  Chiffre  is  attached  at  Appendix  A.  Also,  Ap- 
pendix B,  a  note  onSMERSH. 


8 


DOSSIER  FOR  M. 


•     •  • 

We  have  been  feeling  for  some  time  that  Le 
Chiffre  is  getting  into  deep  water.  In  nearly  all 
respects  he  is  an  admirable  agent  of  the  U.S.S.R.j 
but  his  gross  physical  habits  and  predilections  are 
an  Achilles  heel  of  which  we  have  been  able  to 
take  advantage  from  time  to  time,  and  one  of  his 
mistresses  is  a  Eurasian  (No.  1860)  controlled  by 
Station  F.,  who  has  recently  been  able  to  obtain 
some  insight  into  his  private  affairs. 

Briefly,  it  seems  that  Le  Chiffre  is  on  the  brink 
of  a  financial  crisis.  Certain  straws  in  the  wind 
were  noticed  by  1860 — some  discreet  sales  of 
jewellery,  the  disposal  of  a  villa  at  Antibes,  and  a 
general  tendency  to  check  the  loose  spending 
which  had  always  been  a  feature  of  his  way  of  life. 
Further  inquiries  were  made  with  the  help  of  our 
friends  of  the  Deuxieme  Bureau  (with  whom  we 
have  been  working  jointly  on  this  case)  and  a 
curious  story  has  come  to  light. 

In  January  1946  Le  Chiffre  bought  control  of  a 
chain  of  brothels,  known  as  the  'Cordon  Jaune,' 
operating  in  Normandy  and  Brittany.  He  was 
foolish  enough  to  employ  for  this  purpose  some 
fifty  million  francs  of  the  moneys  entrusted  to  him 
by  Leningrad  Section  III  for  the  financing  of 
S.O.D.A.,  the  trade  union  mentioned  above. 

Normally  the  Cordon  Jaune  would  have  proved 
a  most  excellent  investment;  and  it  is  possible  that 
Le  Chiffre  was  motivated  more  by  a  desire  to  in- 
crease his  union  funds  than  by  the  hope  of  lining 
his  own  pocket  by  speculating  with  his  employers' 
money.  However  that  may  be,  it  is  clear  that  he 
could  have  found  many  investments  more  savoury 
than  prostitution,  if  he  had  not  been  tempted  by 
the  by-product  of  unlimited  women  for  his  per- 
sonal use. 

Fate  rebuked  him  with  terrifying  swiftness. 


10 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Barely  three  months  later,  on  the  13th  April, 
there  was  passed  in  France  Law  No.  46685  entitled 
Loi  Tendant  a  la  Fermeture  des  Maisons  de 
Tolerance  et  au  Renforcement  de  la  Lutte  cohtre  le 
Proxenitisme.  \ 

(When  M.  came  to  this  sentence  he  grunted  and 
pressed  a  switch  on  the  intercom. 
'Head  of  S?' 
'Sir.' 

'What  the  hell  does  this  word  mean? '  He  spelt  it  out. 
'Pimping,  sir.5 

'This  is  not  the  Berlitz  School  of  Languages,  Head  of 
S.  If  you  want  to  show  off  your  knowledge  of  foreign 
jawbreakers,  be  good  enough  to  provide  a  crib.  Better 
still,  write  in  English.' 

'Sorry,  sir.' 

M.  released  the  switch  and  turned  back  to  the 
memorandum.)  \ 

This  law  (he  read),  known  popularly  as  'La  Loi 
Marthe  Richard,'  closing  all  houses  of  ill- fame 
and  forbidding  the  sale  of  pornographic  books 
and  films,  knocked  the  bottom  out  of  his  in- 
vestment almost  overnight,  and  suddenly  Le 
Chiffre  was  faced  with  a  serious  deficit  in  his 
union  funds.  In  desperation  he  turned  his  open 
houses  into  'maisons  de  passe'  where  clandestine 
rendezvous  could  be  arranged  on  the  border-line 
of  the  law,  and  he  continued  to  operate  one  or  two 
'cinemas  bleus'  underground;  but  these  shifts  in 
no  way  served  to  cover  his  overheads,  and  all  at- 
tempts to  sell  his  investment,  even  at  a  heavy  loss, 
failed  dismally.  Meanwhile  the  Police  des  Moeurs 
were  on  his  trail,  and  in  a  short  while  twenty  or 
more  of  his  establishments  were  closed  down. 

The  police  were,  of  course,  only  interested  in 
this  man  as  a  big-time  brothel-keeper,  and  it  was 


DOSSIER  FORM. 


11 


not  until  we  expressed  an  interest  in  his  finances 
that  the  Deuxieme  Bureau  unearthed  the  parallel 
dossier  which  was  running  with  their  colleagues  of 
the  police  department. 

The  significance  of  the  situation  became  ap- 
parent to  us  and  to  our  French  friends,  and,  in  the 
past  few  months,  a  veritable  rat-hunt  has  been 
operated  by  the  police  after  the  establishments  of 
the  Cordon  Jaune,  with  the  result  that  today 
nothing  remains  of  Le  Chiffre's  original  in- 
vestment, and  any  routine  inquiry  would  reveal  a 
deficit  of  around  fifty  million  francs  in  the  trade- 
union  funds  of  which  he  is  the  treasurer  and 
paymaster. 

It  does  not  seem  that  the  suspicions  of 
Leningrad  have  been  aroused  yet;  but,  un- 
fortunately for  Le  Chiffre,  it  is  possible  that  at 
any  rateSMERSH  is  on  the  scent.  Last  week  a  high- 
grade  source  of  Station  P.  reported  that  a  senior 
official  of  the  efficient  organ  of  Soviet  vengeance 
had  left  Warsaw  for  Strasbourg  via  the  Eastern 
sector  of  Berlin.  There  is  no  confirmation  of  this 
report  from  the  Deuxieme  Bureau,  nor  from  the 
authorities  in  Strasbourg  (who  are  reliable  and 
thorough)  and  there  is  also  no  news  from  Le 
Chiffre's  headquarters  there,  which  we  have  well 
covered  by  a  double  agent  (in  addition  to  1860). 

If  Le  Chiffre  knew  that  SMERSH  was  on  his  tail 
or  that  they  had  the  smallest  suspicion  of  him,  he 
would  have  no  alternative  to  committing  suicide 
or  attempting  to  escape;  but  his  present  plans 
suggest  that,  while  he  is  certainly  desperate,  he 
does  not  yet  realize  that  his  life  may  be  at  stake.  It 
is  these  rather  spectacular  plans  of  his  that  have 
suggested  to  us  a  counter-operation  which,  though 
risky  and  unconventional,  we  submit  at  the  end  of 
this  memorandum  with  confidence. 

In  brief,  Le  Chiffre  plans,  we  believe,  to  follow 


2 


CASINO  ROYALE 


the  example  of  most  other  desperate  till-robbers 
and  make  good  the  deficit  in  his  accounts  by  gam- 
bling. The  'Bourse'  is  too  slow.  So  are  the  various 
illicit  traffics  in  drugs,  or  rare  medicines,  such  as 
aureo-  and  streptomycin  and  cortisone.  No  race 
tracks  could  carry  the  sort  of  stakes  he  will  have  to 
play;  and,  if  he  won,  he  would  more  likely  be 
killed  than  paid  off . 

In  any  case,  we  know  that  he  has  withdrawn  the 
final  twenty-five  million  francs  from  the  treasury 
of  his  union,  and  that  he  has  taken  a  small  villa  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Royale-les-Eaux,  just  north 
of  Dieppe,  for  a  week  from  a  fortnight  tomorrow. 

Now,  it  is  expected  that  the  Casino  at  Royale 
will  see  the  highest  gambling  in  Europe  this  sum- 
mer. In  an  effort  to  wrest  the  big  money  from 
Deauville  and  Le  Touquet,  the  Soci6te  des  Bains 
de  Mers  de  Royale  have  leased  the  baccarat  and 
the  two  top  chemin-de-fer  tables  to  the  Mahomet 
Ali  Syndicate,  a  group  of  emigre'  Egyptian  bankers 
and  businessmen  with,  it  is  said,  a  call  on  certain 
royal  funds,  who  have  for  years  been  trying  to  cut 
in  on  the  profits  of  Zographos  and  his  Greek 
associates  resulting  from  their  monopoly  of  the 
highest  French  baccarat  banks. 

With  the  help  of  discreet  publicity,  a  con- 
siderable number  of  the  biggest  operators  in 
America  and  Europe  have  been  encouraged  to 
book  at  Royale  this  summer  and  it  seems  possible 
that  this  old-fashioned  watering-place  will  regain 
some  of  its  Victorian  renown. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is  here  that  Le  Chiffre  will, 
we  are  confident,  endeavour  on  or  after  15  June  to 
make  a  profit  at  baccarat  of  fifty  million  francs  on 
a  working  capital  of  twenty- five  million.  (And,  in- 
cidentally, save  his  life.) 


DOSSIER  FOR  M. 


Proposed  Counter-operation 

It  would  be  greatly  in  the  interests  of  this  coun- 
try and  of  the  other  nations  of  the  North  Atlantic 
Treaty  Organization  that  this  powerful  Soviet 
agent  should  be  ridiculed  and  destroyed,  that  his 
communist  trade  union  should  be  bankrupted  and 
brought  into  disrepute,  and  that  this  potential 
fifth  column,  with  a  strength  of  50,000,  capable  in 
time  of  war  of  controlling  a  wide  sector  of 
France's  northern  frontier,  should  lose  faith  and 
cohesion.  All  this  would  result  if  Le  Chiffre  could 
be  defeated  at  the  tables.  (N.B.  Assassination  is 
pointless.  Leningrad  would  quickly  cover  up  his 
defalcations  and  make  him  into  a  martyr.) 

We  therefore  recommend  that  the  finest  gam- 
bler available  to  the  Service  should  be  given  the 
necessary  funds  and  endeavour  to  outgamble  this 
man. 

The  risks  are  obvious,  and  the  possible  loss  to 
the  Secret  funds  is  high;  but  other  operations  on 
which  large  sums  have  been  hazarded  have  had 
fewer  chances  of  success,  often  for  a  smaller  ob- 
jective. 

If  the  decision  is  unfavourable,  the  only  alter- 
native would  be  to  place  our  information  and  our 
recommendations  in  the  hands  of  the  Deuxieme 
Bureau  or  of  our  American  colleagues  of  the 
Combined  Intelligence  Agency  in  Washington. 
Both  of  these  organizations  would  doubtless  be 
delighted  to  take  over  the  scheme. 

Signed:  S. 


Appendix  A. 
Name:  Le  Chiffre. 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Aliases:  Variations  on  the  words  'cipher'  or 
'number'  in  different  languages;  e.g.,  'Herr 
Ziffer.' 
Origin:  Unknown. 

First  encountered  as  a  displaced  person,  in- 
mate of  Dachau  D.P.  camp  in  the  U.S.  Zone  of 
Germany,  June,  1945.  Apparently  suffering 
from  amnesia  and  paralysis  of  vocal  cords  (? 
both  feigned).  Dumbness  succumbed  to  ther- 
apy, but  subject  continued  to  claim  total  loss  of 
memory  except  associations  with  Alsace  Lor- 
raine and  Strasbourg  whither  he  was  transferred 
in  September,  1945,  on  Stateless  Passport  No. 
304596.  Adopted  the  name  'Le  Chiffre'  ('since  I 
am  only  a  number  on  a  passport').  No  Christian 
names. 
Age:  About  45. 

Description:  Height  5  ft.  8  in.  Weight  18  stone. 
Complexion  very  pale.  Clean-shaven.  Hair  red- 
brown,  'en  brosse.'  Eyes  very  dark  brown  with 
whites  showing  all  round  iris.  Small,  rather 
feminine  mouth.  False  teeth  of  expensive 
quality.  Ears  small,  with  large  lobes,  indicating 
some  Jewish  blood.  Hands  small,  well-tended, 
hirsute.  Feet  small.  Racially,  subject  is  probably 
a  mixture  of  Mediterranean  with  Prussian  or 
Polish  strains.  Dresses  well  and  meticulously, 
generally  in  dark  double-breasted  suits.  Smokes 
incessantly  Caporals,  using  a  denicotinizing 
holder.  At  frequent  intervals  inhales  from  ben- 
zedrine inhaler.  Voice  soft  and  even.  Bilingual 
in  French  and  English.  Good  German.  Traces 
of  Marseillais  accent.  Smiles  infrequently.  Does 
not  laugh. 

Habits:  Mostly  expensive,  but  discreet.  Large  sex- 
ual appetites.  Flagellant.  Expert  driver  of  fast 
cars.  Adept  with  small  arms  and  other  forms  of 


DOSSIER  FORM.  15 

personal  combat,  including  knives.  Carries 
three  Eversharp  razor  blades,  in  hatband,  heel 
of  left  shoe,  and  cigarette  case.  Knowledge  of 
accountancy  and  mathematics.  Fine  gambler. 
Always  accompanied  by  two  armed  guards, 
well-dressed,  one  French,  one  German  (details 
available). 

Comment:  A  formidable  and  dangerous  agent  of 
the  U.S.S.R.,  controlled  by  Leningrad  Section 
III  through  Paris. 

Signed:  Archivist. 

Appendix  B. 
Subject:  smersh 

Sources:  Own  archives  and  scanty  material  made 
available  by  DeuxiSme  Bureau  and  C.I.A. 
Washington. 

Smersh  is  a  conjunction  of  two  Russian 
words:  'Smyert  Shpionam,'  meaning  roughly: 
'Death  to  Spies.' 

Ranks  above  MW.D.  (formerly  N.K.V.D.) 
and  is  believed  to  come  under  the  personal 
direction  of  Beria. 

Headquarters:  Leningrad  (substation  at 
Moscow). 

Its  task  is  the  elimination  of  all  forms  of 
treachery  and  back-sliding  within  the  various 
branches  of  the  Soviet  Secret  Service  and  Secret 
Police  at  home  and  abroad.  It  is  the  most 
powerful  and  feared  organization  in  the 
U.S.S.R.  and  is  popularly  believed  never  to 
have  failed  in  a  mission  of  vengeance. 

It  is  thought  that  SMERSH  was  responsible  for 
the  assassination  of  Trotsky  in  Mexico  (22 
August  1940)  and  may  indeed  have  made  its 


CASINO  ROYALE 


name  with  this  successful  murder  after  attempts 
by  other  Russian  individuals  and  organizations 
had  failed. 

SMERSH  was  next  heard  of  when  Hitler  at- 
tacked Russia.  It  was  then  rapidly  expanded  to 
cope  with  treachery  and  double  agents  during 
the  retreat  of  the  Soviet  forces  in  1941.  At  that 
time  it  worked  as  an  execution  squad  for  the 
N.K.V.D.,  and  its  present  selective  mission  was 
not  so  clearly  defined. 

The  organization  itself  was  thoroughly 
purged  after  the  war  and  is  now  believed  to  con- 
sist of  only  a  few  hundred  operatives  of  very 
high  quality  divided  into  five  sections: 

Department  I:  In  ,  charge  of  counter- 
intelligence among  Soviet  organizations 
at  home  and  abroad. 

Department  II:  Operations,  including  execu- 
tions. 

Department  III:  Administration  and  Finance. 
Department  IV:  Investigations  and  legal 

work.  Personnel. 
Department  V:  Prosecutions:  the  section 

which  passes  final  judgment  on  all  victims. 

Only  one  SMERSH  operative  has  come  into  our 
hands  since  the  war:  Goytchev,  alias  Garrad- 
Jones.  He  shot  Petchora,  medical  officer  at  the 
Yugoslav  Embassy,  in  Hyde  Park,  7  August 
1948.  During  interrogation  he  committed 
suicide  by  swallowing  a  coat-button  of  com- 
pressed potassium  cyanide.  He  revealed  nothing 
beyond  his  membership  of  SMERSH,  of  which  he 
was  arrogantly  boastful-. 

We  believe  that  the  following  British  double 
agents  were  victims  of  SMERSH:  Donovan, 
Harthrop-Vane,  Elizabeth  Dumont,  Ventnor, 


DOSSIER  FOR  M. 


17 


Mace,  Savarin.  (For  details  see  Morgue:  Section 

Q.)  ' 

Conclusion:  Every  effort  should  be  made  to  im- 
prove our  knowledge  of  this  very  powerful 
organization  and  destroy  its  operatives. 


CHAPTER  3 

Number  007 


Head  of  S.  (the  section  of  the  Secret  Service  con- 
cerned with  the  Soviet  Union)  was  so  keen  on  his  plan 
for  the  destruction  of  Le  Chiffre,  and  it  was  basically 
his  own  plan,  that  he  took  the  memorandum  himself 
and  went  up  to  the  top  floor  of  the  gloomy  building 
overlooking  Regent's  Park  and  through  the  green  baize 
door  and  along  the  corridor  to  the  end  room. 

He  walked  belligerently  up  to  M.'s  chief  of  staff,  a 
young  sapper  who  had  earned  his  spurs  as  one  of  the 
secretariat  to  the  Chiefs  of  Staff  committee  after  having 
been  wounded  during  a  sabotage  operation  in  1944,  and 
had  kept  his  sense  of  humour  in  spite  of  .  both  ex- 
periences.* 

'Now  look  here,  Bill.  I  want  to  sell  something  to  the 
Chief.  Is  this  a  good  moment?' 

'What  do  you  think,  Penny?'  The  Chief  of  Staff 
turned  to  M.'s  private  secretary,  who  shared  the  room 
with  him. 

Miss  Moneypenny  would  have  been  desirable  but  for 


18 


NUMBER  007  19 

her  eyes,  which  were  cool  and  direct  and  quizzical. 

'Should  be  all  right.  He  won  a  bit  of  a  victory  at  the 
F.O.  this  morning  and  he's  not.  got  anyone  for  the  next 
half  an  hour.'  She  smiled  encouragingly  at  Head  of  S., 
whom  she  liked  for  himself  and  for  the  importance  of 
his  section. 

'Well,  here's  the  dope,  Bill.'  He  handed  over  the 
black  folder  with  the  red  star  which  stood  for  Top 
Secret.  'And  for  God's  sake  look  enthusiastic  when  you 
give  it  him.  And  tell  him  I'll  wait  here  and  read  a  good 
code-book  while  he's  considering  it.  He  may  want  some 
more  details,  and  anyway  I  want  to  see  you  two  don't 
pester  him  with  anything  else  until  he's  finished. ' 

'All  right,  sir.'  The  Chief  of  Staff  pressed  a  switch 
and  leant  towards  the  intercom  on  his  desk. 

'Yes?' asked  a  quiet,  flat  voice. 

'Head  of  S.  has  an  urgent  docket  for  you,  sir. ' 

There  was  a  pause. 

'Bring  it  in,' said  the  voice; 

The  Chief  of  Staff  released  the  switch  and  stood  up. 

'Thanks,  Bill.  I'll  be  next  door,'  said  Head  of  S. 

The  Chief  of  Staff  crossed  his  office  and  went 
through  the  double  doors  leading  into  M.'s  room.  In  a 
moment  he  came  out,  and  over  the  entrance  a  small  blue 
light  burned  the  warning  that  M.  was  not  to  be  dis- 
turbed. 

Later,  a  triumphant  Head  of  S.  said  to  his  Number 
Two:  'We  nearly  cooked  ourselves  with  that  last 
paragraph.  He  said  it  was  subversion  and  blackmail.  He 
got  pretty  sharp  about  it.  Anyway,  he  approves.  Says 
the  idea's  crazy  but  worth  trying  if  the  Treasury  will 
play,  and  he  thinks  they  will.  He's  going  to  tell  them  it's 
a  better  gamble  than  the  money  we're  putting  into  de- 
serting Russian  colonels  who  turn  double  after  a  few 
months'  "asylum"  here.  And  he's  longing  to  get  at  Le 
Chiffre,  and  anyway  he's  got  the  right  man  and  wants  to 
try  him  out  on  the  job.'  \ 


20 


CASINO  ROYALE 


'Who  is  it?'  asked  Number  Two. 

' One  of  the  Double  O's — I  guess  007 .  He's  tough,  and 
M.  thinks  there  may  be  trouble  with  those  gunmen  of  Le 
Chiffre's.  He  must  be  pretty  good  with  the  cards,  or  he 
wouldn't  have  sat  in  the  Casino  in  Monte  Carlo  for  two 
months  before  the  war  watching  that  Roumanian  team 
work  their  stuff  with  the  invisible  ink  and  the  dark 
glasses.  He  and  the  Deuxieme  bowled  them  out  in  the 
end,  and  007  turned  in  a  million  francs  he  had  won  at 
shemmy.  Good  money  in  those  days. ' 

James  Bond's  interview  with  M'.  had  been  short. 

'What  about  it,  Bond?'  asked  M.  when  Bond  came 
back  into  his  room  after  reading  Head  of  S.'s  memoran- 
dum and  after  gazing  for  ten  minutes  out  of  the  waiting- 
room  window  at  the  distant  trees  in  the  park. 

Bond  looked  across  the  desk  into  the  shrewd,  clear 
eyes. 

'It's  very  kind  of  you,  sir,  I'd  like  to  do  it.  But  I  can't 
promise  -to  win.  The  odds  at  baccarat  are  the  best  after 
"trente  et  quarante" — evens  except  for  the  tiny 
"cagnotte" — but  I  might  get  a  bad  run  against  me  and 
get  cleaned  out.  Play's  going  to  be  pretty 
high— opening' 11  go  up  to  half  a  million,  I  should 
think.' 

Bond  was  stopped  by  the  cold  eyes.  M.  knew  all  this 
already,  knew  the  odds  at  baccarat  as  well  as  Bond. 
That  was  his  job — knowing  the  odds  at  everything,  and 
knowing  men,  his  own  and  the  opposition's.  Bond 
wished  he  had  kept  quiet  about  his  misgivings. 

'He  can  have  a  bad  run  too,'  said  M.  'You'll  have 
plenty  of  capital.  Up  to  twenty-five  million,  the  same  as 
him.  We'll  start  you  on  ten  and  send  you  another  ten 
when  you've  had  a  look  round.  You  can  make  the  extra 
five  yourself.'  He  smiled.  'Go  over  a  few  days  before 
the  big  game  starts  and  get  your  hand  in.  Have  a  talk  to 
Q.  about  rooms  and  trains,  and  any  equipment  you 
want.  The  Paymaster  will  fix  the  funds.  I'm  going  to  ask 


NUMBER  007 


21 


the  Deuxieme  to  stand  by.  It's  their  territory,  and  as  it  is 
we  shall  be  lucky  if  they  don't  kick  up  rough .  I'll  try  and 
persuade  them  to  send  Mathis.  You  seemed  to  get  on 
well  with  him  in  Monte  Carlo  on  that  other  Casino  job. 
And  I'm  going  to  tell  Washington  because  of  the 
N.A.T.O.  angle.  C.I.  A.  have  got  one  or  two  good  men 
at  Fontainebleau  with  the  joint  intelligence  chaps  there. 
Anything  else?' 

Bond  shook  his  head.  'I'd  certainly  like  to  have 
Mathis,  sir.' 

'Well,  we'll  see.  Try  and  bring  it  off.  We're  going  to 
look  pretty  foolish  if  you  don't.  And  watch  out.  This 
sounds  an  amusing  job,  but  I  don't  think  it's  going  to 
be.  Le  Chiffre  is  a  good  man.  Well,  best  of  luck.' 

'Thank  you,  sir,'  said  Bond,  and  went  to  the  door. 

'Just  a  minute.' 

Bond  turned. 

'I  think  I'll  keep  you  covered,  Bond.  Two  heads  are 
better  than  one  and  you'll  need  someone  to  run  your 
communications.  I'll  think  it  over.  They'll  get  in  touch 
i  with  you  at  Royale.  You  needn't  worry.  It'll  be  someone 
good.' 

Bond  would  have  preferred  to  work  alone,  but  one 
didn't  argue  with  M.  He  left  the  room  hoping  that  the 
man  they  sent  would  be  loyal  to.him  and  neither  stupid 
nor,  worse  still,  ambitious. 


CHAPTER  4 

'L'Ennemi  Ecoute' 


As,  two  weeks  later,  James  Bond  awoke  in  his 
room  at  the  Hotel  Splehdide,  some  of  this  history 
passed  through  his  mind. 

He  had  arrived  at  Royale-les-Eaux  in  time  for  lunch- 
eon two  days  before.  There  had  been  no  attempt  to  con- 
tact him,  and  there  had  been  no  flicker  of  curiosity 
when  he  had  signed  the  register  'James  Bond,  Port 
Maria,  Jamaica.' 

M.  had  expressed  no  interest  in  his  cover. 

'Once  you  start  to  make  a  set  at  Le  Chiffre  at  the 
tables  you'll  have  had  it,'  he  said.  'But  wear  a  cover  that 
will  stick  with  the  general  public. ' 

Bond  knew  Jamaica  well,  so  he  asked  to  be  controlled 
from  there  and  to  pass  as  a  Jamaican  phantocrat  whose 
father  had  made  his  pile  in  tobacco  and  sugar  and  who 
chose  to  play  it  away  on  the  stock  markets  and  in 
casinos.  If  inquiries  were  made,  he  would  quote  Charles 
Dasilva  of  Caffery's,  Kingston,  as  his  attorney.  Charles 
would  make  the  story  stick. 


22 


'L'ENNEMI  ECOUTE' 


23 


Bond  had  spent  the  last  two  afternoons  and  most  of 
the  nights  at  the  Casino,  playing  complicated 
progression  systems  on  the  even  chances  at  roulette.  He 
made  a  high  banco  at  chemin-de-fer  whenever  he  heard 
one  offered.  If  he  lost,  he  would  'suivi'  once  and  not 
chase  it  further  if  he  lost  the  second  time. 

In  this  way  he  had  made  some  three  million  francs 
and  had  given  his  nerves  and  card-sense  a  thorough 
workout.  He  had  got  the  geography  of  the  Casino  clear 
in  his  mind.  Above  all,  he  had  been  able  to  observe  Le 
Chiffre  at  the  tables  and  to  note  ruefully  that  he  was  a 
faultless  and  lucky  gambler. 

Bond  liked  to  make  a  good  breakfast.  After  a  cold 
shower,  he-  sat  at  the  writing-table  in  front  of  the 
window.  He  looked  out  at  the  beautiful  day  and  con- 
sumed half  a  pint  of  iced  orange  juice,  three  scrambled 
eggs  and  bacon,  and  a  double  portion  of  coffee  without 
sugar.  He  lit  his  first  cigarette,  a  Balkan  and  Turkish 
mixture  made  for  him  by  Morlands  of  Grosvenor  Street, 
and  watched  the  small  waves  lick  the  long  seashore  and 
the  fishing  fleet  from  Dieppe  string  out  towards  the 
June  heat-haze  followed  by  a  paper-chase  of  herring- 
gulls. 

He  was  lost  in  his  thoughts  when  the  telephone  rang. 
It  was  the  concierge  announcing  that  a  Director  of 
Radio  Stentor  was  waiting  below  with  the  wireless  set  he 
v  had  ordered  from  Paris. 

'Of  course,'  said  Bond.  'Send  him  up.' 

This  was  the  cover  fixed  by  the  Deuxieme  Bureau  for 
their  liaison  man  with  Bond.  Bond  watched  the  door, 
hoping  that  it  would  be  Mathis. 

When  Mathis  came  in,  a  respectable  businessman 
carrying  a  large  square  parcel  by  its  leather  handle, 
Bond  smiled  broadly  and  would  have  greeted  him  with 
warmth  if  Mathis  had  not  frowned  and  held  up  his  free 
hand  after  carefully  closing  the  door. 

'I  have  just  arrived  from  Paris,  monsieur,  and  here  is 
the  set  you  asked  to  have  on  approval — five  valves, 


i. 


24 


CASINO  ROYALE 


superhet,  I  think  you  call  it  in  England,  and  you  should 
be  able  to  get  most  of  the  capitals  of  Europe  from 
Royale.  There  are  no  mountains  for  forty  miles  in  any 
direction.' 

'It  sounds  all  right,'  said  Bond,  lifting  his  eyebrows  at 
this  mystery-making. 

Mathis  paid  no  attention.  He  placed  the  set,  which  he 
had  unwrapped,  on  the  floor  beside  the  unlit  panel  elec- 
tric fire  below  the  mantelpiece. 

'It  is  just  past  eleven,'  he  said,  'and  I  see  that  the 
Compagnons  de  la  Chanson  should  now  be  on  the 
medium  wave  from  Rome.  They  are  touring  Europe. 
Let  us  see  what  the  reception  is  like.  It  should  be  a  fair 
test.' 

He  winked.  Bond  noticed  that  he  had  turned  the 
volume  on  to  full  and  that  the  red  light  indicating  the 
long  waveband  was  illuminated,  though  the  set  was  still 
silent. 

Mathis  fiddled  at  the  back  of  the  set.  Suddenly  an  ap- 
palling roar  of  static  filled  the  small  room.  Mathis  gazed 
at  the  set  for  a  few  seconds  with  benevolence  and  then 
turned  it  off,  and  his  voice  was  full  of  dismay. 

'My  dear  monsieur — forgive  me,  please— badly 
tuned.'  And  he  again  bent  to  the  dials.  After  a  few  ad- 
justments the  close  harmony  of  the  French  came  over 
the  air,  and  Mathis  walked  up  and  clapped  Bond  very 
hard  on  the  back  and  wrung  his  hand  until  Bond's 
fingers  ached. 

Bond  smiled  back  at  him.  'Now  what  the  hell?'  he 
asked. 

'My  dear  friend,'  Mathis  was  delighted,  'you  are 
blown,  blown,  blown.  Up  there,'  he  pointed  at  the 
ceiling,  'at  this  moment,  either  Monsieur  Muntz  or  his 
alleged  wife,  allegedly  bedridden  with  the  grippe,  is 
deafened,  absolutely  deafened,  and  I  hope  in  agony.' 
He  grinned  with  pleasure  at  Bond's  frown  of  disbelief. 

Mathis  sat  down  on  the  bed  and  ripped  open  a  packet 
of  Caporal  with  his  thumbnail.  Bond  waited. 


•L'ENNEMI  ECOUTE' 


25 


Mathis  was  satisfied  with  the  sensation  his  words  had 
caused.  He  became  serious. 

'How  it  has  happened,  I  don't  know.  They  must  have 
been  on  to  you  for  several  days  before  you  arrived.  The 
opposition  is  here  in  real  strength.  Above  you  is  the 
Muntz  family.  He  is  German.  She  is  from  somewhere  in 
Central  Europe,  perhaps  a  Czech.  This  is  an  old- 
fashioned  hotel.  There  are  disused  chimneys  behind 
these  electric  fires.  Just  here,'  he  pointed  a  few  inches 
above  the  panel  fire,  'is  suspended  a  very  powerful  radio 
pick-up.  The  wires  run  up  the  chimney  to  behind  the 
Muntzes'  electric  fire  where  there  is  an  amplifier.  In 
their  room  is  a  wire  recorder  and  a  pair  of  earphones  on 
which  the  Muntzes  listen  in  turn.  That  is  why  Madame 
Muntz  has  the  grippe  and  takes  all  her  meals  in  bed  and 
why  Monsieur  Muntz  has  to  be  constantly  at  her  side  in- 
stead of  enjoying  the  sunshine  and  the  gambling  of  this 
delightful  resort. 

'Some  of  this  we  knew  because  in  France  we  are  very 
clever.  The  rest  we  confirmed  by  unscrewing  your  elec- 
tric fire  a  few  hours  before  you  got  here. ' 

Suspiciously  Bond  walked  over  and  examined  the 
screws  which  secured  the  panel  to  the  wall.  Their 
grooves  showed  minute  scratches. 

'Now  it  is  time  for  a  little  more  play-acting,'  said 
Mathis.  He  walked  over  to  the  radio,  which  was  still 
transmitting  close  harmony  to  its  audience  of  three,  and 
switched  it  off. 

'Are  you  satisfied,  monsieur?'  he  asked.  'You  notice 
how  clearly  they  come  over.  Are  they  not  a  wonderful 
team?'  He  made  a  winding  motion  with  his  right  hand 
and  raised  his  eyebrows. 

'They  are  so  good;'  said  Bond,  'that  I  would  like  to 
hear  the  rest  of  the  programme.'  He  grinned  at  the 
thought  of  the  angry  glances  which  the  Muntzes  must  be 
exchanging  overhead.  'The  machine  itself  seems  splen- 
did. Just  what  I  was  looking  for  to  take  back  to 
Jamaica.'  ' 


26 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Mathis  made  a  sarcastic  grimace  and  switched  back  to 
the  Rome  programme. 

'You  and  your  Jamaica,'  he  said,  and  sat  down  again 
on  the  bed. 

Bond  frowned  at  him.  'Well,  it's  no  good  crying  over 
spilt  milk,'  he  said.  'We  didn't  expect  the  cover  to  stick 
for  long,  but  it's  worrying  that  they  bowled  it  out  so 
soon.'  He  searched  his  mind  in  vain  for  a  clue.  Could 
the  Russians  have  broken  one  of  our  ciphers?  If  so,  he 
might  just  as  well  pack  up  and  go  home.  He  and  his  job 
would  have  been  stripped  naked. 

Mathis  seemed  to  read  his  mind.  'It  can't  have  been  a 
cipher,'  he  said.  'Anyway,  we  told  London  at  once,  and 
they  will  have  changed  them.  A  pretty  flap  we  caused,  I 
can  tell  you.'  He  smiled  with  the  satisfaction  of  a 
friendly  rival.  'And  now  to  business,  before  our  good 
Compagnons  run  out  of  breath. 

'First  of  all' — he  inhaled  a  thick  lungful  of 
Caporal — 'you  will  be  pleased  with  your  Number  Two. 
She  is  very  beautiful  (Bond  frowned),  very  beautiful  in- 
deed.' Satisfied  with  Bond's  reaction,  Mathis  con- 
tinued: 'She  has  black  hair,  blue  eyes,  and  splendid  ... 
er .  .  .  protuberances.  Back  and  front,'  he  added.  'And 
she  is  a  wireless  expert  which,  though  sexually  less  in- 
teresting, makes  her  a  perfect  employee  of  Radio 
Stentor  and  assistant  to  myself  in  my  capacity  as 
wireless  salesman  for  this  rich  summer  season  down 
here.'  He  grinned.  'We  are  both  staying  in  the  hotel, 
and  my  assistant  will  thus  be  on  hand  in  case  your  new 
radio  breaks  down.  All  new  machines,  even  French 
ones,  are  apt  to  have  teething  troubles  in  the  first  day  or 
two.  And  occasionally  at  night,'  he  added  with  an 
exaggerated  wink. 

Bond  was  not  amused.  'What  the  hell  do  they  want  to 
send  me  a  woman  for,'  he  said  bitterly.  'Do  they  think 
this  is  a  bloody  picnic?' 

Mathis  interrupted.  'Calm  yourself,  my  dear  James. 
She  is  as  serious  as  you  could  wish  and  as  cold  as  an 


'L'ENNEMI  ECOUTE' 


27 


icicle.  She  speaks  French  like  a  native  and  knows  her  job 
backwards.  Her  cover's  perfect,  and  I  have  arranged  for 
her  to  team  up  with  you  "quite  smoothly.  What  is  more 
natural  than  that  you  should  pick  up  a  pretty  girl  here? 
As  a  Jamaican  millionaire/  he  coughed  respectfully, 
'what  with  your  hot  blood  and  all,  you  would  look 
naked  without  one.' 

Bond  grunted  dubiously. 

'Any  other  surprises?'  he  asked  suspiciously. 

' Nothing  very  much,' answered  Mathis. 'LeChiffre  is 
installed  in  his  villa.  It's  about  ten  miles  down  the  coast 
road.  He  had  his  two  guards  with  him.  They  look  pretty 
capable  fellows.  One  of  them  has  been  seen  visiting  a 
little  pension  in  the  town  where  three  mysterious  and 
rather  subhuman  characters  checked  in  two  days  ago. 
They  may  be  part  of  the  team.  Their  papers  are  in  or- 
der— stateless  Czechs  apparently — but  one  of  our  men 
says  the  language  they  talk  in  their  room  is  Bulgarian. 
We  don't  see  many  of  those  around.  They're  mostly 
used  against  the  Turks  and  the  Yugoslavs.  They're 
stupid,  but  obedient.  The  Russians  use  them  for  simple 
killings  or  as  fall-guys  for  more  complicated  ones.' 

'Thanks  very  much.  Which  is  mine  to  be?'  asked 
Bond. 'Anything  else?' 

'No.  Come  to  the  bar  of  the  Hermitage  before  lunch. 
I'll  fix  the  introduction.  Ask  her  to  dinner  this  evening. 
Then  it  will  be  natural  for  her  to  come  into  the  Casino 
with  you.  I'll  be  there  too,  but  in  the  background.  I've 
got  one  or  two  good  chaps,  and  we'll  keep  an  eye  on 
you.  Oh,  and  there's  an  American  called  Leiter  here, 
staying  in  the  hotel.  Felix  Leiter.  He's  the  C.I. A.  chap 
from  Fontainebleau.  London  told  me  to  tell  you.  He 
looks  okay.  May  come  in  useful. ' 

A  torrent  of  Italian  burst  from  the  wireless  set  on  the 
floor.  Mathis  switched  it  off  and  they  exchanged  some 
phrases  about  the  set  and  about  how  Bond  should  pay 
for  it.  Then  with  effusive  farewells  and  a  final  wink 
Mathis  bowed  himself  out. 


28 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Bond  sat  at  the  window  and  gathered  his  thoughts. 
Nothing  that  Mathis  had  told  him  was  reassut^ng.  He 
was  completely  blown  and  under  really  professional  sur- 
veillance. An  attempt  might  be  made  to  put  him  away 
even  before  he  had  a  chance  to  pit  himself  against  Le 
Chiffre  at  the  tables.  The  Russians  had  no  stupid 
prejudices  about  murder.  And  then  there  was  this  pest 
of  a  girl.  He  sighed.  Women  were  for  recreation.  On  a 
job,  they  got  in  the;;  way  and  fogged  things  up  with  sex 
and  hurt  feelings  and  all  the  emotional  baggage  they 
carried  around.  One  had  to  look  out  for  them  and  take 
care  of  them.  - 

'Bitch,'  said  Bond,  and  then  remembering  the 
Muntzes,  he  said  'bitch'  again  more  loudly  and  walked 
out  of  the  room. 


CHAPTER  5  . 

The  Girl  from  Headquarters 


It  was  twelve  o'clock  when  Bond  left  the  Splen- 
dide,  and  the  clock  on  the  mairie  was  stumbling  through 
its  midday  carillon.  There  was  a  strong  scent  of  pine  and 
mimosa  in  the  air,  and  the  freshly  watered  gardens  of 
the  Casino  opposite,  interspersed  with  neat  gravel  par- 
terres and  paths,  lent  the  scene  a  pretty  formalism  more 
appropriate  to  ballet  than  to  melodrama. 

The  sun  shone,  and  there  was  a  gaiety  and  sparkle  in 
the  air  which  seemed  to  promise  well  for  the  new  era  of 
fashion  and  prosperity  for  which  the  little  seaside  town, 
after  many  vicissitudes,  was  making  its  gallant  bid. 

Royale-les-Eaux,  which  lies  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Somme  before  the  flat  coast-line  soars  up  from  the 
beaches  of  southern  Picardy  to  the  Brittany  cliffs  which 
run  on  to  Le  Havre,  had  experienced  much  the  same 
fortunes  as  Trouville. 

Royale  (without  the  Eaux)  also  started  as  a  small 
fishing-village,  and  its  rise  to  fame  as  a  fashionable 
watering-place  during  the  Second  Empire  was  as 


29 


30 


CASINO  ROYALE 


meteoric  as  that  of  Trouville.  But  as  Deauville  killed 
Trouville,  so,  after  a  long  period  of  decline,;  did  Le 
Touquet  kill  Royale. 

At  the  turn  pf  the  century,  when  things  were  going 
badly  for  the  little  seaside  town  and  when  the  fashion 
was  to  combine  pleasure  with  a  'cure,'  a  natural  spring 
in  the  hills  behind  Royale  was  discovered  to  contain 
enough  diluted  sulphur  to  have  a  beneficent  effect  on 
the  liver.  Since  all  French  people  suffer  from  liver  com- 
plaints, Royale  quickly  became  Royale-les-Eaux,  and 
Eau  Royale,  in  a  torpedo-shaped  bottle,  grafted  itself 
demurely  on  to  the  tail  of  the  mineral-water  lists  in 
hotels  and  restaurant  cars. 

It  did  not  long  withstand  the  powerful  combines  of 
Vichy  and  Perrier  and  Vittel.  There  came  a  series  of 
lawsuits;  a  number  "of  people  lost  a  lot  of  money,  and 
very  soon  its  sale  was  again  entirely  local.  Royale  fell 
back  on  the  takings  from  French  and  English  families 
v  during  the  summer,  on  its  fishing-fleet  in  winter  and  on 
the  crumbs  which  fell  to  its  elegantly  dilapidated  Casino 
from  the  tables  at  Le  Touquet. 

But  there  was  something  splendid  about  the  Negresco 
baroque  of  the  Casino  Royale,  a  strong  whiff  of  Vic- 
torian elegance  and  luxury,  and  in  1950  Royale  caught, 
the  fancy  of  a  syndicate  in  Paris  which  disposed  of  large 
funds  belonging  to  a  group  of  expatriate  Vichyites. 

Brighton  had  been  revived  since  the  war,  and  Nice. 
Nostalgia  for  more  specious,  golden  times  might  be  a 
source  of  revenue. 

The  Casino  was  repainted  in  its  original  white  and 
gilt,  and  the  rooms  decorated  in  the  palest  grey  with 
wine-red  carpets  and  curtains.  Vast  chandeliers  were 
suspended  from  the  ceilings.  The  gardens  were  spruced, 
and  the  fountains  played  again,  and  the  two  main 
hotels,  the  Splendide  and  the  Hermitage,  were  prinked 
and  furbished  and  restaffed. 

Even  the  small  town  and  the  vieux-port  managed  to 
fix  welcoming  smiles  across  their  ravaged  faces,  and  the 


THE  GIRL  FROM  HEADQUARTERS 


31 


main  street  became  gay  with  the  'vitrines'  of  great  Paris 
jewellers  and  couturiers,  tempted  down  for  a  butterfly 
season  by  rent-free  sites  and  lavish  promises. 

Then  the  Mahomet  Ali  Syndicate  was  cajoled  into 
starting  a  high  game  in  the  Casino  and  the  Socie"te  des 
Bains  de  Mer  de  Royale  felt  that  now  at  last  Le  Touquet 
would  have  to  yield  up  some  of  the  treasure  stolen  over 
the  years  from  its  parent  plage. 

Against  the  background  of  this  luminous  and 
sparkling  stage  Bond  stood  in  the  sunshine  and  felt  his 
mission  to  be  incongruous  and  remote  and  his  dark 
profession  an  affront  to  his  fellow  actors. 

He  shrugged  away  the  momentary  feeling  of  unease 
and  walked  round  the  back  of  his  hotel  and  down  the 
ramp  to  the  garage.  Before  his  rendezvous  at  the  Her- 
mitage he  decided  to  take  his  car  down  the  coast  road 
and  have  a  quick  look  at  Le  Chiffre's  villa  and  then 
drive  back  by  the  inland  road  until  it  crossed  the  route 
nationale  to  Paris. 

Bond's  car  was  his  only  personal  hobby.  One  of  the 
last  of  the  4'/i-litre  Bentleys  with  the  supercharger  by 
Amherst  Villiers,  he  had  bought  it  almost  new  in  1933 
and  had  kept  it  in  careful  storage  through  the  war.  It 
was  still  serviced  every  year  and,  in  London,  a  former 
Bentley  mechanic,  who  worked  in  a  garage  near  Bond's 
Chelsea  flat,  tended  it  with  jealous  care.  Bond  drove  it 
hard  and  well  and  with  an  almost  sensual  pleasure.  It 
was  a  battleship-grey  convertible  coupe,  which  really 
did  convert,  and  it  was  capable  of  touring  at  ninety  with 
thirty  miles  an  hour  in  reserve. 

Bond  eased  the  car  out  of  the  garage  and  up  the  ramp, 
and  soon  the  loitering  drumbeat  of  the  two-inch  exhaust 
was  echoing  down  the  tree-lined  boulevard,  through  the 
crowded  main  street  of  the  little  town,  and  off  through 
the  sand  dunes  to  the  south. 

An  hour  later,  Bond  walked  into  the  Hermitage  bar 
and  chose  a  table  near  one  of  the  broad  windows. 

The  room  was  sumptuous  with  those  overmasculine 


32 


CASINO  ROYALE 


trappings  which,  together  with  briar  pipes  and  wire- 
haired  terriers,  spell  luxury  in  France.  Everything  was 
brass-studded  leather  and  polished  mahogany.  The  cur- 
tains and  carpets  were  in  royal  blue!  The  waiters  wore 
striped  waistcoats  and  green  baize  aprons.  Bond  or- 
dered an  Americano  and  examined  the  sprinkling  of 
overdressed  customers,  mostly  from  Paris  he  guessed, 
who  sat  talking  with  focus  and  vivacity,  creating  that 
theatrically  clubbable  atmosphere  of  Pheure  de 
l'aperitif. 

The  men  were  drinking  inexhaustible  quarter-bottles 
of  champagne,  the  women  dry  Martinis. 

'Moi,  j'adore  le  "dry,"  '  a  bright-faced  girl  at  the 
next  table  said  to  her  companion,  too  neat  in  his  un- 
seasonable tweeds,  who  gazed  at  her  with  moist  brown 
eyes  over  the  top  of  an  expensive  shooting-stick  from 
Hermes, 'fait  avec  du  Gordon's,  bien  entendu.' 

'D'accord,  Daisy.  Mais  tu  sais,  un  zeste  de  citron 

Bond's  eye  was  caught  by  the  tall  figure  of  Mathis  on 
the  pavement  outside,  his  face  turned  in  animation  to  a 
dark  haired  girl  in  grey.  His  arm  was  linked  in  hers,  high 
Up  above  the  elbow,  and  yet  there  was  a  lack  of  intimacy 
in  their  appearance,  an  ironical  chill  in  the  girl's  profile, 
which  made  them  seem  two  separate  people  rather  than 
a  couple.  Bond  waited  for  them  to  come  through  the 
street-door  into  the  bar,  but  for  appearances'  sake  con- 
tinued to  stare  out  of  the  window  at  the  passers-by. 

'But  surely  it  is  Monsieur  Bond?'  Mathis's  Voice 
behind  him  was  full  of  surprised  delight.  Bond,  ap- 
propriately flustered,  rose  to  his  feet.  'Can  it  be  that  you 
are  alone?  Are  you  awaiting  someone?  May  I  present 
my  colleague,  Mademoiselle  Lynd?  My  dear,  this  is  the 
gentleman  from  Jamaica  with  whom  I  had  the  pleasure 
of  doing  business  this  morning.' 

Bond  inclined  himself  with  a  reserved  friendliness.  'It 
would  be  a  great  pleasure,'  he  addressed  himself  to  the 
girl.  'I  am  alone.  Would  you  both  care  to  join  me?'  He 
pulled  out  a  chair,  and  while  they  sat  down  he  beckoned 


THE  GIRL  FROM  HEADQUARTERS 


33 


to  a  waiter  and  despite  Mathis's  expostulations  insisted 
on  ordering  the  drinks— a  fine  a  l'eau  for  Mathis  and  a 
Bacardi  for  the  girl. 

Mathis  and  Bond  exchanged  cheerful  talk  about  the 
fine  weather  and  the  prospects  of  a  revival  in  the  for-x 
tunes  of  Royale-les-Eaux.  The  girl  sat  silent.  She  ac- 
cepted pne  of  Bond's  cigarettes,  examined  it,  and  then 
smoked  it  appreciatively  and  without  affectation, 
drawing  the  smoke  deeply  into  her  lungs  with,  a  little 
sigh  and  then  exhaling  it  casually  through  her  lips  and 
nostrils.  Her  movements  were  economical  and  precise 
with  no  trace  of  self-consciousness. 

Bond  felt  her  presence  strongly.  While  he  and  Mathis 
talked,  he  turned  from  time  to  time  towards  her, 
politely  including  her  in  the  conversation,  but  adding  up 
the  impressions  recorded  by  each  glance. 

Her  hair  was  very  black,  and  she  wore  it  cut  square 
and  low  on  the  nape  of  the  neck,  framing  her  face  to 
below  the  clear  and  beautiful  line  of  her  jaw.  Although 
it  was  heavy  and  moved  with  the  movements  of  her 
head,  she  did  not  constantly  pat  it  back  into  place,  but 
let  it  alone.  Her  eyes  were  wide  apart  and  deep  blue,  and 
they  gazed  candidly  back  at  Bond  with  a  touch  of 
ironical  disinterest  which,  to  his  annoyance,  he  found  he 
would  like  to  shatter,  roughly.  Her  skin  was  lightly  sun- 
tanned and  bore  no  trace  of  makeup  except  on  her 
mouth,  which  was  wide  and  sensual.  Her  bare  arms  and 
hands  had  a  quality  of  repose,  and  the  general  im- 
pression Of  restraint  in  her  appearance  and  movements 
was  carried  even  to  her  fingernails,  which  were  un- 
painted  and  cut  short.  Round  her  neck  she  wore  a  plain 
gold  chain  of  wide  flat  links,  and  on  the  fourth  finger  of 
the  right  hand  a  broad  topaz  ring.  Her  medium-length 
dress  was  of  grey  soie  sauvage  with  a  square-cut  bodice, 
lasciviously  tight  across  her  fine  breasts.  The  skirt  Was 
closely  pleated  and  flowered  down  from  a  narrow,  but 
not^a  thin,  waist.  She  wore  a  three-inch,  hand-stitched 
black  belt.  A  hand-stitched  black  sabretache  rested  on 


34  CASINO  ROYALE 

the  chair  beside  her,  together  with  a  wide  cartwheel  hat 
of  gold  straw,  its  crown  encircled  by  a  thin  black  velvet 
ribbon  which  tied  at  the  back  in  a  short  bow.  Her  shoes 
were  square-toed  of  plain  black  leather. 

Bond  was  excited  by  her  beauty  and  intrigued  by  her 
composure.  The  prospect  of  working  with  her 
stimulated  him.  At  the  same  time  he  felt  a  vague 
disquiet.  On  an  impulse  he  touched  wood. 

Mathis  had  noticed  Bond's  preoccupation.  After  a 
time  he  rose. 

'Forgive  me, '  he  said  to  the  girl,  'while  I  telephone  to 
the  Dubernes.  I  must  arrange  my  rendezvous  for  dinner 
tonight.  Are  you  sure  you  won't  mind  being  left  to  your 
own  devices  this  evening?' 

She  shook  her  head.  - 

Bond  took  the  cue  and,  as  Mathis  crossed  the  room  to 
the  telephone  booth  beside  the  bar,  he  said:  'If  you  are 
going  to  be  alone  tonight,  would  you  care  to  have  dinner 
with  me?' 

She  smiled  with  the  first  hint  of  conspiracy  she  had 
shown.  'I  would  like  to  very  much,'  she  said,  'and  then 
perhaps  you  would  chaperon  me  to  the  Casino  where 
Monsieur  Mathis  tells  me  you  are  very  much  at  home. 
Perhaps  I  will  bring  you  luck.' 

With  Mathis  gone,  her  attitude  towards  him  showed  a 
sudden  warmth.  She  seemed  to  acknowledge  that  they 
were  a  team  and,  as  they  discussed  the  time  and  place  of 
their  meeting,  Bond  realized  that  it  would  be  quite  easy 
after  all  to  plan  the  details  of  his  project  with  her.  He 
felt  that  after  all  she  was  interested  and  excited  by  her 
role  and  that  she  would  work  willingly  with  him.  He  had 
imagined  many  hurdles  before  establishing  a  rapport, 
but  now  he  felt  he  could  get  straight  down  to 
professional  details.  He  was  quite  honest  to  himself 
about  the  hypocrisy  of  his  attitude  towards  her.  As  a 
woman,  he  wanted  to  sleep  with  her,  but  only  when  the 
job  had  been  done. 

When  Mathis  came  back  to  the  table  Bond  called  for 


THE  GIRL  FROM  HEADQUARTERS 


35 


his  bill.  He  explained  that  he  was  expected  back  at  his 
hotel  to  have  lunch  with  friends.  When  for  a  moment  he 
held  her  hand  in  his  he  felt  a  warmth  of  affection  and 
understanding  pass  between  them  that  would  have 
seemed  impossible  half  an  hour  earlier. 

The  girl's  eyes  followed  him  out  on  to  the  boulevard. 

Mathis  moved  his  chair  close  to  hers  and  said  softly: 
'That  is  a  very  good  friend  of  mine.  I  am  glad  you  have 
met  each  other.  I  can  already  feel  the  ice-floes  on  the 
two  rivers  breaking  up.'  He  smiled.  'I  don't  think  Bond 
has  ever  been  melted.  It  will  be  a  new  experience  for 
him.  And  for  you.' 

She  did  not  answer  him  directly. 

'He  is  very  good-looking.  He  reminds  me  rather  of 
Hoagy  Carmichael,  but  there  is  something  cold  and 
ruthless  in  his  ... ' 

The  sentence  was  never  finished.  Suddenly  a  few  feet 
,  away  the  entire  plate-glass  window  shivered  into  con- 
fetti. The  blast  of  a  terrific  explosion,  very  near,  hit 
them  so  that  they  were  rocked  back  in  their  chairs. 
There  was  an  instant  of  silence.  Some  objects  pattered 
down  on  to  the  pavement  outside.  Bottles  slowly 
toppled  off  the  shelves  behind  the  bar.  Then  there  were 
screams  and  a  stampede  for  the  door. 

'Stay  there,' said  Mathis. 

He  kicked  back  his  chair  and  hurtled  through  the 
empty  window-frame  on  to  the  payment. 


CHAPTER  6 

Two  Men  in  Straw  Hats 


When  Bond  left  the  bar  he  walked  purposefully 
along  the  pavement  flanking  the  tree-lined  boulevard 
towards  his  hotel  a  few  hundred  yards  away.  He  was 
hungry. 

The  day  was  still  beautiful,  but  by  now  the  sun  was 
very  hot  and  the  plane-trees,  spaced  about  twenty  feet 
apart  on  the  grass  verge  between  the  pavement  and  the 
broad  tarmac,  gave  a  cool  shade. 

There  were  few  people  abroad  and  the  two  men  stand- 
ing quietly  under  a  tree  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
boulevard  looked  out  of  place. 

Bond  noticed  them  when  he  was  still  a  hundred  yards 
away  and  when  the  same  distance  separated  them  from 
the  ornamental  'porte-cochere'  of  the  Splendide. 

There  was  something  rather  disquieting  about  their 
appearance.  They  were  both  small,  and  they  were 
dressed  alike  in  dark  and,  Bond  reflected,  rather  hot- 
looking  suits.  They  had  the  appearance  of  a  variety  turn 
waiting  for  a  bus  on  the  way  to  the  theatre.  Each  wore  a 


36 


TWO  MEN  IN  STRAW  HATS 


37 


straw  hat  with  a  thick  black  ribbon  as  a  concession, 
perhaps,  to  the  holiday  atmosphere  of  the  resort,  and 
the. brims  of  these  and  the  shadow  from  the  tree  under 
which  they  stood  obscured  their  faces.  Incongruously, 
each  dark,  squat  little  figure  was  illuminated  by  a  touch 
of  bright  colour.  They  were  both  carrying  square 
camera-cases  slung  from  the  shoulder. 

And  one  case  was  bright  red  and  the  other  case  bright 
blue. 

By  the  time  Bond  had  taken  in  these  details,  he  had 
come  to  within  fifty  yards  of  the  two  men.  He  was 
reflecting  on  the  ranges  of  various  types  of  weapon  and 
the  possibilities  of  cover  when  an  extraordinary  and 
terrible  scene  was  enacted. 

Red-man  seemed  to  give  a  short  nod  to  Blue-man. 
With  a  quick  movement  Blue-man  unslung  his  blue 
camera  case.  Blue-man,  and  Bond  could  not  see  exactly 
as  the  trunk  of  a  plane-tree  beside  him  just  then  in- 
tervened to  obscure  his  vision,  bent  forward  and  seemed  , 
to  fiddle  with  the  case.  Then  with  a  blinding  flash  of 
white  light  there  was  the  ear-splitting  crack  of  a  mon- 
strous explosion  and  Bond,  despite  the  protection  of  the 
tree-trunk,  was  slammed  down  to  the  pavement  by  a 
solid  bolt  of  hot  air  which  dented  his  cheeks  and 
stomach  as  if  they  had  been  made  of  paper.  He  lay, 
gazing  up  at  the  sun,  while  the  air  (or  so  it  seemed  to 
him)  went  on  twanging  with  the  explosion  as  if  someone 
had  hit  the  bass  register  of  a  piano  with  a  sledge 
hammer.  < 

When,  dazed  and  half-conscious,  he  raised  himself  on 
one  knee,  a  ghastly  rain  of  pieces  of  flesh  and  shreds  of 
blood-soaked  clothing  fell  on  him  and  around  him, 
mingled  with  branches  and  gravel.  Then  a  shower  ^  of 
small  twigs  and  leaves.  From  all  sides  came  the  sharp 
tinkle  of  falling  glass.  Above  in  the  sky  hung  a 
mushroom  of  black  smoke  which  rose  and  dissolved  as 
he  drunkenly  watched  it.  There  was  an  obscene  smell  of 
high  explosive,  of  burning  wood,  and  of,  yes,  that  was 


38 


CASINO  ROYALE 


it— roast  mutton.  For  fifty  yards  down  the  boulevard 
the  trees  were  leafless  and  charred.  Opposite,  two  of 
them  had  snapped  off  near  the  base  and  lay  drunkenly 
across  the  road.  Between  them  there  was  a  still  smoking 
crater.  Of  the  two  men  in  straw  hats,  there  remained  ab- 
solutely nothing.  But  there  were  red  traces  on  the  road, 
and  on  the  pavements  and  against  the  trunks  of  the 
trees,  and  there  were  glittering  shreds  high  up  in  the 
branches. 

Bond  felt  himself  starting  to  vomit. 

It  was  Mathis  who  got  to  him  first,  and  by  that  time 
Bond  was  standing  with  his  arm  round  the  tree  which 
had  saved  his  life. 

Stupefied,  but  unharmed,  he  allowed  Mathis  to  lead 
him  off  towards  the  Splendide  from  which  guests  and 
servants  were  pouring  in  chattering  fright.  As  the 
distant  clang  of  bells  heralded  the  arrival  of  ambulances 
and  fire-engines,  they  managed  to  push  through  the 
throng  and  up  the  short  stairs  and  along  the  corridor  to 
Bond's  room. 

Mathis  paused  only  to  turn  on  the  radio  in  front  of 
the  fireplace,  then,  while  Bond  stripped  off  his  blood- 
flecked  clothes,  Mathis  sprayed  him  with  questions. 

When  it  came  to  the  description  of  the  two  men, 
Mathis  tore  the  telephone  off  its  hook  beside  Bond's 
bed. 

.  .  and  tell  the  police,'  he  concluded,  'tell  them  that 
the  Englishman  from  Jamaica  who  was  knocked  over  by 
the  blast  is  my  affair.  He  is  unhurt,  and  they  are  not  to 
worry  him.  I  will  explain  to  them  in  half  an  hour.  They 
should  tell  the  Press  that  it  was  apparently  a  vendetta 
between  two  Bulgarian  communists  and  that  one  killed 
the  other  with  a  bomb.  They  need  say  nothing  of  the 
third  Bulgar  who  must  have  been  hanging  about 
somewhere,  but  they  must  get  him  at  all  costs.  He  will 
certainly  head  for  Paris.  Roadblocks  everywhere.  Un- 
derstood? Alors,  bonne  chance.' 


TWO  MEN  IN  STRAW  HATS 


39 


Mathis  turned  back  to  Bond  and  heard  him  to  the 
end. 

'Merde,  but  you  were  lucky,'  he  said  when  Bond  had 
finished.  'Clearly  the  bomb  was  intended  for  you.  It 
must  have  been  faulty.  They  intended  to  throw  it  and 
then  dodge  behind  their  tree.  But  it  all  came  out  the 
other  way  round.  Never  mind.  We  will  discover  the 
facts.'  He  paused.  'But  certainly  it  is  a  curious  affair. 
And  these  people  appear  to  be  taking  you  seriously.' 
Mathis  looked  affronted.  'But  how  did  these  sacre" 
Bulgars  intend  to  escape  capture?  And  what  was  the 
significance  of  the  red  and  the  blue  cases?  We  must  try 
and  find  some  fragments  of  the  red  one.' 

Mathis  bit  his  nails.  He  was  excited,  and  his  eyes  glit- 
tered. This  was  becoming  a  formidable  and  dramatic  af- 
fair, in  many  aspects  of  which  he  was  now  involved  per- 
sonally. Certainly  it  was  no  longer  just  a  case  of  holding 
Bond's  coat  while  he  had  his  private  battle  with  Le 
Chiffre  in  the  Casino.  Mathis  jumped  up. 

'Now  get  a  drink  and  some  lunch  and  a  rest,'  he  or- 
dered Bond.  'For  me,  I  must  get  my  nose  quickly  into 
this  affair  before  the  police  have  muddied  the  trail  with 
their  big  black  boots.' 

Mathis  turned  off  the  radio  and  waved  an  af- 
fectionate farewell.  The  door  slammed,  and  silence  set- 
tled on  the  room.  Bond  sat  for  a  while  by  the  window 
and  enjoyed  being  alive. 

Later,  as  Bond  was  finishing  his  first  straight  whisky 
'on  the  rocks'  and  was  contemplating  the  p§te  de  foie  . 
gras  and  cold  langouste  which  the  waiter  had  just  laid 
out  for  him,  the  telephone  rang. 

'This  is  Mademoiselle  Lynd.' 

The  voice  was  low  and  anxious. 

'Are  you  all  right?' 

'Yes,  quite.' 

'I'm  glad:  Please  take  care  of  yourself.' 
She  rang  off. 


40 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Bond  shook  himself,  then  he  picked  up  his  knife  and 
selected  the  thickest  of  the  pieces  of  hot  toast  . 

He  suddenly  thought:  two  of  them  are  dead,  and  I 
have  got  one  more  on  my  side.  It's  a  start. 

He  dipped  the  knife  into  the  glass  of  very  hot  water 
which  stood  beside  the  pot  of  Strasbourg  porcelain  and 
reminded  himself  to  tip  the  waiter  doubly  for  this  par- 
ticular meal. 


CHAPTER  7 


Rouge  et  Noir 


Bond  was  determined  to  be  completely  fit  and 
relaxed  for  a  gambling  session  which  might  last  most  of 
the  night.  He  ordered  a  masseur  for  three  o'clock.  After 
the  remains  of  his  luncheon  had  been  removed,  he  sat  at 
his  window  gazing  out  to  sea  until  there  came  a  knock 
on  the  door  as  the  masseur,  a  Swede,  presented  himself. 

Silently  he  got  to  work  on  Bond  from  his  feet  to  his 
neck,  melting  the  tensions  in  his  body  and  calming  his 
still  twanging  nerves.  Even  the  long  purpling  bruises 
down  Bond's  left  shoulder  and  side  ceased  to  throb,  and 
when  the  Swede  had  gone  Bond  fell  into  a  dreamless 
sleep. 

He  awoke  in  the  evening  completely  refreshed. 

After  a  cold  shower,  Bond  walked  over  to  the  Casino. 
Since  the  night  before  he  had  lost  the  mood  of  the 
tables.  He  needed  to  reestablish  that  focus  which  is  half 
mathematical  and  half  intuitive  and  which,  with  a  slow 
pulse  and  a  sanguine  temperament,  he  knew  to  be  the 


41 


42 


CASINO  ROYALE 


essential  equipment  of  any  gambler  who  was  set  on 
winning. 

Bond  had  always  been  a  gambler.  He  loved  the  dry 
riffle  of  the  cards  and  the  constant  unemphatic  drama 
of  the  quiet  figures  round  the  green  tables.  He  liked  the 
solid,  studied  comfort  of  cardrooms  and  casinos,  the 
well-padded  arms  of  the  chairs,  the  glass  of  champagne 
or  whisky  at  the  elbow,  the  quiet  unhurried  attention  of 
good  servants.  He  was  amused  by  the  impartiality  of  the 
roulette  ball  and  of  the  playing  cards — and  their  eternal 
bias.  He  liked  being  an  actor  and  a  spectator  and  from 
his  chair  to  take  part  in  other  men's  dramas  and 
decisions,  until  it  came  to  his  own  turn  to  say  that  vital 
'yes'  or  'no,'  generally  on  a  fifty-fifty  chance. 

Above  all,  he  liked  it  that  everything  was  one's  own 
fault.  There  was  only  oneself  to  praise  or  blame.  Luck 
was  a  servant  and  not  a  master.  Luck  had  to  be  accepted 
with  a  shrug  or  taken  advantage  of  up  to  the  hilt.  But  it 
had  to  be  understood  and  recognized  for  what  it  was 
and  not  confused  with  a  faulty  appreciation  of  the  odds, 
,  for,  at  gambling,  the  deadly  sin  is  to  mistake  bad  play 
for  bad  luck.  And  luck  in  all  its  moods  had  to  be  loved 
and  not  feared.  Bond  saw  luck  as  a  woman,  to  be  softly 
wooed  or  brutally  ravaged,  never  pandered  to  or  pur- 
sued. But  he  was  honest  enough  to, admit  that  he  had 
never  yet  been  made  to  suffer  by  cards  or  by  women. 
One  day,  and  he  accepted  the  fact,  he  would  be  brought 
to  his  knees  by  love  or  by  luck.  When  that  happened  he 
knew  that  he  too  would  be  branded  with  the  deadly 
question-mark  he  recognized  so  often  in  others,  the 
promise  to -pay  before  you  have  lost:  the  acceptance  of 
fallibility.  ^ 

But  on  this  June  evening  when  Bond  walked  through 
the  'kitchen'  into  the  salle  priv6e,  it  was  with  a  sensation 
of  confidence  and  cheerful  anticipation  that  he  changed 
a  million  francs  into  plaques  of  fifty  mille  and  took  a 


:,ROUGEETNOIR 


43 


seat  next  to  the  chef  de  partie  at  Roulette.  Table 
Number  1.  . 

Bond  borrowed  the  chef's  card  and  studied  the  run  of 
the  ball  since  the  session  had  started  at  three  o'clock 
that  afternoon.  He  always  did  this  although  he  knew 
that- each  turn  of  the  wheel,  each  fall  of  the  ball  into  a 
numbered  slot,  had  absolutely  no  connexion  with  its 
predecessor.  He  accepted  that  the  game  begins  afresh 
each  time  the  croupier  picks  up  the  ivory  ball  with  his 
right  hand,  gives  one  of  the  four  spokes  of  the  wheel  a 
controlled  twist  clockwise  with  the  same  hand  and,  with 
a  third  motion,  also  with  the  right  hand,  flicks  the  ball 
round  the  outer  rim  of  the  wheel  anticlockwise,  against 
its  spin. 

It  was  obvious  that  all  this  ritual  and  all  the 
mechanical  minutiae  of  the  wheel,  of  the  numbered  slots 
and  the  cylinder,  had  been  devised  and  perfected  over 
the  years  so  that  neither  the  skill  of  the  croupier  nor  any 
bias  in  the  wheel  could  affect  the  fall  of  the  ball.  And 
yet  it  is  a  convention  among  roulette  players,  and  Bond 
rigidly  adhered  to  it,  to  take  careful  note  of  the  past 
history  of  each  session  and  to  be  guided  by  any  pe- 
culiarities in  the  run  of  the  wheel.  To  note,  for  instance, 
and  consider  significant,  sequences  of  more  than  two  on 
a  single  number  or  of  more  than  four  at  the  other 
chances  down  to  evens. 

Bond  didn't  defend  the  practice.  He  simply  main- 
tained that  the  more  effort  and  ingenuity  you  put  into 
gambling,  the  more  you  took  out. 

On  the  record  of  that  particular  table,  after  about 
three  hours'  play,  Bond  could  see  little  of  interest  except 
that  the  last  dozen  had  been  out  of  favour,  It  was  his 
practice  to  play  always  with  the  wheel,  and  only  to  turn 
against  its  previous  pattern  and  start  on  a  new  tack  after 
a  zero  had  turned  up.  So  he  decided  to  play  one  of  his 
favourite  gambits  and  back  two— in  this  case  the  first 


44 


CASINO  ROYALE 


two— dozens,  each  with  the  maximum— one  hundred 
thousand  francs.  He  thus  had  two-thirds  of  the  board 
covered  (less  the  zero)  and,  since  the  dozens  pay  odds  of 
two  to  one,  he  stood  to  win  a  hundred  thousand  francs 
every  time  any  number  lower  than  25  turned  up. 

After  seven  coups  he  had  won  six  times.  He  lost  on 
the  seventh  When  30  came  up.  His  net  profit  was  half  a 
million  francs.  He  kept  off  the  table  for  the  eighth 
throw.  Zero  turned  up.  This  piece  of  luck  cheered  him 
further  and,  accepting  the  30  as  a  finger-post  to  the  last 
dozen,  he  decided  to  back  the  first  and  last  dozens  until 
he  had  lost  twice.  Ten  throws  later  the  middle  dozen 
came  up  twice,  costing  him  four  hundred  thousand 
francs,  but  he  rose  from  the  table  eleven  hundred 
thousand  francs  to  the  good. 

Directly  Bond  had  started  playing  in  maximums,  his 
game  had  become  the  centre  of  interest  at  the  table.  As 
he  seemed  to  be  in  luck,  one  or  two  pilot  fish  started  to 
swim  with  the  shark.  Sitting  directly  opposite,  one  of 
these,  whom  Bond  took  to  be  "an  American,  had  shown 
more  than  the  usual  friendliness  and  pleasure  at  his 
share  of  the  winning  streak.  He  had  smiled  once  or  twice 
across  the  table,  and  there  was  something  pointed  in  the 
way  he  duplicated  Bond's  movements,  placing  his  two 
modest  plaques  of  ten  mille  exactly  opposite  Bond's 
larger  ones.  When  Bond  rose,  he  too  pushed  back  his 
chair  and  called  cheerfully  across  the  table: 

'Thanks  for  the  ride.  Guess  I  owe  you  a  drink.  Will 
you  join  me?' 

Bond  had  a  feeling  that  this  might  be  the  CI. A.  man. 
He  knew  he  was  right  as  they  strolled  off  together 
towards  the  bar,  after  Bond  had  thrown  a  plaque  of  ten 
mille  to  the  croupier  and  had  given  a  mille  to  the  huissier 
who  drew  back  his  chair. 

'My  name's  Felix  Leiter,' said  the  American. 'Glad  to 
meet  you.  ' 

'Mine's  Bond— James  Bond.' 


ROUGE  ETNOIR  45 

'Oh,  yes,'  said  his  companion,  'and  now  let's  see. 
What  shall  we  have  to  celebrate?' 

Bond  insisted  on  ordering  Leiter's  Haig-and  Haig  'on 
the  rocks,'  and  then  he  looked  carefully  at  the  barman. 

'A  dry  Martini,'  he  said.  'One.  In  a  deep  champagne 
goblet.' 

'Oui,  Monsieur.' 

'Just  a  moment.  Three  measures  of  Gordon's,  one  of 
vodka,  half  a  measure  of  Kina  Lillet.  Shake  it  very  well 
until  it's  ice-cold,  then  add  a  large  thin  slice  of  lemon- 
peel.  Got  it?' 

'Certainly,  monsieur.'  The  barman  seemed  pleased 
with  the  idea. 

'Gosh,  that's  certainly  a  drink,'  said  Leiter. 

Bond  laughed.  'When  I'm-er-concentrating,'  he 
explained,  'I  never  have  more. than  one  drink  before 
dinner.  But  I  do  like  that  one  to  be  large  and  very  strong 
and  very  cold  and  very  well-made.  I  hate  small  portions 
of  anything,  particularly  when  they  taste  bad.  This 
drink's  my  own  invention.  I'm  going  to  patent  it  when  I 
can  think  of  a  good  name.' 

He  watched  carefully  as  the  deep  glass  became  frosted 
with  the  pale  golden  drink,  slightly  aerated  by  the 
bruising  of  the  shaker.  He  reached  for  it  and  took  a  long 
sip. 

'Excellent,'  he  said  to  the  barman,  'but  if  you  can  get 
a  vodka  made  with  grain  instead  of  potatoes,  you  will 
find  it  still  better.' 

'Mais  n'enculons  pas  des  mouches,'  he  added  in  an 
aside  to  the  barman.  The  barman  grinned. 

'That's  a  vulgar  way  of  saying  "we  won't  split 
hairs,"  '  explained  Bond. 

But  Leiter  was  still  interested  in  Bond's  drink.  'You 
certainly  think  things  out,'  he  said  with  amusement  as 
they  carried  their  glasses  to  a  corner  of  the  room.  He 
lowered  his  voice: 

'You'd  better  call  it  the  "Molotov  Cocktail"  after  the 


46 


CASINO  ROYALE 


one  you  tasted  this  afternoon.'  , 

They  sat  down.  Bond  laughed. 
-  'I  see  that  the  spot  marked  X  has  been  roped  off,  and 
they're  making  cars  take  a  detour  over  the  pavement.  I 
hope  it  hasn't  frightened  away  any  of  the  big  money. ' 

'People  are  accepting  the  communist  story  or  else 
they  think  it  was  a  burst  gas-main.  All  the  burnt  trees 
are  coming  down  tonight  and  if  they  work  things  here 
like  they  do  at  Monte  Carlo,  there  won't  be  a  trace  of 
the  mess  left  in  the  morning.' 

Leiter  shook  a  Chesterfield  out  of  his  pack.  'I'm  glad 
to  be  working  with  you  on  this  job,'  he  said,  looking 
into  his  drink,  'so  I'm  particularly  glad  you  didn't  get 
blown  to  glory.  Our  people  are  definitely  interested. 
They  think  it's  just  as  important  as  your  friends  do,  and 
they  don't  think  there's  anything  crazy  about  it  at  all.  In 
fact,  Washington's  pretty  sick  we're  not  running  the 
show,  but  you  know  what  the  big  brass  is  like.  I  expect 
your  fellows  are  much  the  same  in  London. ' 

Bond  nodded.  'Apt  to  be  a  bit  jealous  of  their 
scoops,' he  admitted. 

'Anyway,  I'm  under  your  orders  and  I'm  to  give  you 
any  help  you  ask  for.  With  Mathis  and  his  boys  here, 
there  may  not  be  much  that  isn't  taken  care  of  already. 
But,  anyway,  here  I  am. ' 

'I'm  delighted  you  are,'  said  Bond.  'The  opposition 
has  got  me,  and  probably  you  and  Mathis  too,  all 
weighed  up,  and  it  seems  no  holds  are  going  to  be 
barred.  I'm  glad  Le  Chiffre  seems  as  desperate  as  we 
thought  he  was.  I'm  afraid  I  haven't  got  anything  very 
specific  for  you  to  do,  but  I'd  be  grateful  if  you'd  stick 
around  the  Casino  this  evening.  I've  got  an  assistant,  a 
Miss  Lynd,  and  I'd  like  to  hand  her  over  to  you  when  I 
start  playing.  You  won't  be  ashamed  of  her.  She's  a 
good-looking  girl.'  He  smiled  at  Leiter.  'And  you  might 
mark  his  two  gunmen.  I  can't;  imagine  he'll  try  a 
roughhouse,  but  you  never  know. ' 


ROUGE  ETNOIR 


47 


'I  may  be  able  to  help,'  said  Leiter.  'I  was  a  regular  in 
our  Marine  Corps  before  I  joined  this  racket,  if  that 
means  anything  to  you.'  He  looked  at  Bond  with  a  hint 
of  self-deprecation. 
.  'It  does,'  said  Bond. 

It  turned  out  that  Leiter  was  from  Texas.  While  he 
talked  on  about  his  job  with  the  Joint  Intelligence  Staff 
of  N.A.T.O.  and  the  difficulty  of  maintaining  security 
in  an  organization  where  so  many  nationalities  were 
represented,  Bond  reflected  th^t  good  Americans  were 
fine  people  and  that  most  of  them  seemed  to  come  from 
Texas. 

Felix  Leiter  was  about  thirty-five.  He  was  tall  with  a 
thin  bony  frame  and  his  lightweight,  tan-coloured  suit 
hung  loosely  from  his  shoulders  like  the  clothes  of 
Frank  Sinatra.  His  movements  and  speech  were  slow," 
but  one  had  the  feeling  that  there  was  plenty  of  speed 
and  strength  in  him,  and  that  he. would  be  a  tough-and 
cruel  fighter.  As  he  sat  hunched  over  the  table,  he 
seemed  to  have  some  of  the  jackknife  quality  of  a 
falcon.  There  was  this  impression  also  in  his  face,  in  the 
sharpness  of  his  chin  and  cheekbones  and  the  wide  wry 
mouth.  His  grey  eyes  had  a  feline  slant  which  was  in- 
creased by  his  habit  of  screwing  them  up  against  the 
smoke  of  the  Chesterfields  which  he  tapped  out  of  the 
pack  in  a  chain.  The  permanent  wrinkles  which  this 
habit  had  etched  at  the  corners  gave  the  impression  that 
he  smiled  more  with  his  eyes  than  with  his  mouth.  A 
mop  of  straw-coloured  hair  lent  his  face  a  boyish  look 
which  closer  examination  contradicted.  Although  he 
seemed  to  talk  quite  openly  about  his  duties  in  Paris, 
Bond  soon  noticed  that  he  never  spoke  of  his  American 
colleagues  in  Europe  or  in  Washington,  and  he  guessed 
that  Leiter  held  the  interests  of  his  own  organization  far 
above  the  mutual  concerns  of  the  North  Atlantic  Allies. 
Bond  sympathized  with  him. 

By  the  time  Leiter  had  swallowed  another  whisky  and 


48 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Bond  had  told  him  about  the  Muntzes  and  his  short 
reconnaissance  trip  down  the  coast  that  morning,  it  was 
seven-thirty,  and  they  decided  to  stroll  over  to  their 
hotel  together.  Before  leaving  the  Casino,  Bond 
deposited  his  total  capital  of  twenty-four  million  at  the 
caisse,  keeping  only  a  few  notes  of  ten  mille  as  pocket- 
money. 

As  they  walked  across  to  the  Splendide,  they  saw  that 
a  team  of  workmen  was  already  busy  at  the  scene  of  the 
explosion.  Several  trees  were  uprooted  and  hoses  frOm 
three  municipal  tank  cars  were  washing  down  the 
boulevard  and  pavements.  The  bomb-crater  had  disap- 
peared and  only  a  few  passers-by  had  paused  to  gape. 
Bond  assumed  that  similar  face-lifting  had  already  been 
carried  out  at  the  Hermitage  and  to  the,  shops  and  front- 
ages which  had  lost  their  windows.  " 

In  the  warm  blue  dusk  Royale-les-Eaux  was  once 
again  orderly  and  peaceful. 

'Who's  the  concierge  working  for?'  asked  Leiter  as 
they  approached  the  hotel.  Bond  was  not  sure,  and  said 
so. 

Mathis  had  been  unable  to  enlighten  him,  'Unless  you 
have  bought  him  yourself,'  he  had  said,  'you  must 
assume  that  he  has  been  bought  by  the  other  side.  All 
concierges  are  venal.  It  is  not  their  fault.  They  are 
trained  to  regard  all  hotel  guests  except  maharajahs  as 
potential  cheats  and  thieves.  They  have  as  much  concern 
for  your  comfort  or  welKbeing  as  crocodiles.' 

Bond  remembered  Mathis' s  pronouncement  when  the 
concierge  hurried  up  to  inquire  whether  he  had 
recovered  from  his  most  unfortunate  experience  of  the 
afternoon.  Bond  thought  it  well  to  say  that  he  still  felt  a 
little  bit  shaky.  He  hoped  that  if  the  intelligence  were 
relayed;  Le  Chiffre  would  at  any  rate  start  playing  that 
evening  with  a  basic  misinterpretation  of  his  adversary's 
strength.  The  concierge  proffered  glycerine  hopes  for 
Bond's  recovery. 


ROUGE  ET  NOIR  49 

Letter's  room  was  on  one  of  the  upper  floors  and  they 
parted  company  at  the  lift  after  arranging  to  see  each 
other  at  the  Casino  at  around  half-past  ten  or  eleven, 
the  usual  hour  for  the  high  tables  to  begin  play. 


CHAPTER  8 

Pink  Lights  and  Champagne 


Bond  walked  up  to  his  room,  which  again 
showed  no  sign  of  trespass,  threw  off  his  clothes,  took  a 
long  hot  bath  followed  by  an  ice-cold  shower,  and  lay 
down  on  his  bed.  There  remained  an  hour  in  which  to 
rest  and  compose  his  thoughts  before  he  met  the  girl  in 
the  Splendide  bar,  an  hour  to  examine  minutely  the 
details  of  his  plans  for  the  game,  and  for  after  the  game, 
in  all  the  various  circumstances  of  victory  or  defeat.  He 
had  to  plan  the  attendant  roles  of  Mathis,  Letter,  and 
the  girl  and  visualize  the  reactions  of  the  enemy  in 
various  contingencies.  He  closed  his  eyes,  and  his 
thoughts  pursued  his  imagination  through  a  series  of 
carefully  constructed  scenes  as  if  he  were  watching  the 
tumbling  chips  of  coloured  glass  in  a  kaleidoscope. 
-  At  twenty  minutes  to  nine  he  had  exhausted  all  the 
permutations  which  might  result  from  his  duel  with  Le 
Chiffre.  He  rose  and  dressed,  dismissing  the  future 
completely  from  his  mind. 
As  he  tied  his  thin,  double-ended,  black  satin  tie,  he 


50. 


PINK  LIGHTS  AND  CHAMPAGNE 


51 


paused  for  a  moment  and  examined  himself  levelly  in 
the  mirror.  His  grey-blue  eyes  looked  calmly  back  with  a 
hint  of  ironical  inquiry  and  the  short  lock  of  black  hair 
which  would  never  stay  in  place  slowly  subsided  to  form 
a  thick  comma  above  his  right  eyebrow.  With  the  thin 
vertical  scar  down  his  right  cheek  the  general  effect  was 
faintly  piratical.  Not  much  of  Hoagy  Carmichael  there, 
thought  Bond,  as  he  filled  a  flat,  light,  gun-metal  box 
with  fifty  of  the  Morland  cigarettes  with  the  triple  gold 
band.  Mathis  had  told  him  of  the  girl's  comment. 

He  slipped  the  case  into  his  hip  pocket  and  snapped 
his  black  oxidized  Ronson  to  see  if  it  needed  fuel.  After 
pocketing  the  thin  sheaf  of  ten-mille  notes,  he  opened  a 
drawer  and  took  out  a  light  chamois  leather  holster  and 
slipped  it  over  his  left  shoulder  so  that  it  hung  about 
three  inches  below  his  armpit.  He  then  took  from  under 
his  shirts  in  another  drawer  a  very  flat  .25  Beretta 
automatic  With  a  skeleton  grip,  extracted  the  clip  and 
the  single  round  in  the  barrel  and  whipped  the  action  to 
and  fro  several  times,  finally  pulling  the  trigger  on  the 
empty  chamber.  He  charged  the  weapon  again,  loaded 
it,  put  up  the  safety  catch,  and  dropped  it  into  the 
shallow  pouch  of  the  shoulder-holster.  He  looked 
carefully  round  the  room  to  see  if  anything  had  been 
forgotten  and  slipped  his  single-breasted  dinner-jacket 
coat  over  his  heavy  silk  evening  shirt.  He  felt  cool  and 
comfortable.  He  verified  in  the  mirror  that  there  was 
absolutely  no  sign  of  the  flat  gun  under  his  left  arm, 
gave  a  final  pull  at  his  narrow  tie  and  walked  out  of  the 
door  and  locked  it. 

When  he  turned  at  the  foot  of  the  short  stairs  towards 
the  bar,  he  heard  the  lift-door  open  behind  him  and  a 
cool  voice  call, 'Good  evening.'- 

It  was  the  girl.  She  stood  and  waited  for  him  to  come 
up  to  her. 

He  had  remembered  her  beauty  exactly.  He  was  not 
surprised  to  be  thrilled  by  it  again. 
Her  dress,  was  of  black  velvet,  simple  and  yet  with  the 


52 


CASINO  ROYALE 


touch  of  splendour  that  only  half  a  dozen  couturiers  in 
the  world  can  achieve.  There  was  a  thin  necklace  of 
diamonds  at  her  throat  and  a  diamond  clip  in  the  low 
vee  which  just  exposed  the  jutting  swell  of  her  breasts. 
She  carried  a  plain  black  evening  bag,  a  flat  oblong 
which  she  now  held,  her  arm  akimbo,  at  her  waist.  Her 
jet-black  hair  hung  straight  and  simply  to  the  final  in- 
ward curl  below  the  chin. 

She  looked  quite  superb,  and  Bond's  heart  lifted. 

'You  look  absolutely  lovely.  Business  must  be  good  in 
the  radio  world!' 

She  put  her  arm  through  his.  'Do  you  mind  if  we  go 
straight  in  to  dinner?'  she  asked.  'I  want  to  make  a 
grand  entrance,  and  the  truth  is  there's  a  horrible  secret 
about  black  velvet.  It  marks  when  you  sit  down.  And, 
by  the  way,  if  you  hear  me  scream  tonight,  I  shall  have 
sat  on  a  cane  chair.' 

Bond  laughed.  'Of  course,  let's  go  straight  in.  We'll 
have  a  glass  of  vodka  while  we  order  our  dinner. ' 

She  gave  him  an  amused  glance,  and  he  corrected 
himself:  'Or  a  cocktail,  of  course,  if  you  prefer  it.  The 
food  here's  the  best  in  Royale.' 

For  an  instant  he  felt  nettled  at  the  touch  of  irony,  the 
lightest  shadow  of  a  snub,  with  which  she  had  met  his 
decisiveness,  and  at  the  way  he  had  risen  to  her  quick 
glance. 

But  it  was  only  an  infinitesimal  clink  of  foils  and  as 
the  bowing  maitre  d'hStel  led  them  through  the  crowded 
room,  it  was  forgotten  as  Bond  in  her  wake  watched  the 
heads  of  the  diners  turn  to  look  at  her. 

The  fashionable  part  of  the  restaurant  was  beside  the 
wide  crescent  of  window  built  out  like  the  broad  stern  of 
a  ship  over  the  hotel  gardens,  but  Bond  had  chosen  a 
table  in  one  of  the  mirrored  alcoves  at  the  back  of  the 
great  room.  These  had  survived  from  Edwardian  days 
and  they  were  secluded  and  gay  in  white  and  gilt,  with 
the  red  silk-shaded  table  and  wall  lights  of  the  late 
Empire. 


PINK  LIGHTS  AND  CHAMPAGNE 


53 


As  they  deciphered  the  maze  of  purple  ink  which 
covered  the  double  folio  menu,  Bond  beckoned  to  the 
sommelier.  He  turned  to  his  companion. 

'Have you  decided?' 

'I  would  love  a  glass  of  vodka,'  she  said  simply,  and 
went  back  to  her  study  of  the  menu. 

'A  small  carafe  of  vodka,  very  cold,'  ordered  Bond. 
He  said  to  her  abruptly:  'I  can't  drink  the  health  of  your 
new  frock  without  knowing  your  Christian  name.' 

'Vesper, '  she  said. 'Vesper  Lynd. '  ,. 

Bond  gave  her  a  look  of  inquiry. 

'It's  rather  abore  always  having  to  explain/but  I /'was 
born  in  the  evening,  on  a  very  stormy  evening  according 
to  my  parents.  Apparently  they  wanted  to  remember  it.' 
She  smiled.  'Some  people  like  it,  others  don't.  I'm  just 
used  to  it.' 

'I  think  it's  a  fine  name,'  said  Bond.  An  idea  struck 
him.  'Can  I  borrow  it??  He  explained  about  the  special 
Martini  he  had  invented  and  his  search  for  a  name  for  it. 
'The  Vesper,'  he  said.  'It  sounds  perfect  and  it's  very 
appropriate  to  the  violet  hour  when  my  cocktail  will 
now  be  drunk  all  over  the  world.  Can  I  have  it? ' 

'So  long  as  I  can  try  one  first*'  she  promised..  'It 
sounds  a  drink  to  be  proud  of.'  1 

'We'll  have  one  together  when  all  this  is  finished,' 
said  Bond.  'Win  or  lose.  And  now  have  you  decided 
what  you  would  like  to  have  for  dinner?  Please  be  ex- 
pensive, '  he,  added  as  he  sensed  her  hesitation,  'or  you'll 
let  down  that  beautiful  frock.'  .'-,■■•; 

'I'd  made  two  choices,'  she  laughed,  'and  either 
would  have  been  delicious;  but  behaving  like  a 
millionaire  occasionally  is  a  wonderful  treat,  and  if 
you're  sure  .  .  .  well,  I'd  like  to  start  with  caviar  and 
then  have  a/plain  grilled  rognon  de  veau  with  pommes  ' 
soufflSs.  And  then  I'd  like  to  have  fraises  des  bois  with  a 
lot  of  cream.  Is  it  very  shameless  to  be  so  certain  and  so 
expensive? '  She  smiled  at  him  inquiringly. 

'It's  a  virtue,  and  anyway' it's  only  a  good  plain 


54 


CASINO  ROYALE 


wholesome  meal.'  He  turned  to  the  maitre  d'hdtel.  'And 
bring  plenty  of  toast. 

'The  trouble  always  is,'  he  explained  to  Vesper,  'not 
how  to  get  enough  caviar,  but  how  to  get  enough  toast 
with  it. 

'Now,'  he  turned  back  to  the  menu,  'I  myself  will 
accompany  Mademoiselle  with  the  caviar;  but  then  I 
would  like  a  very  small  tournedos,  underdone,  with 
sauce  Bearnaise  artd  a  coeur  d'artichaut.  While 
Mademoiselle  is  enjoying  the  strawberries,  I  will  have  an 
avocado  pear  with  a  little  French  dressing.  Do  you  ap- 
prove?' 

The  maitred'hdtel  bowed. 

'My  compliments,  mademoiselle  and  monsieur.  Mon- 
sieur George  .  .  .'  He  turned  to  the  sommelier  and 
repeated  the  two  dinners  for  his  benefit  . 

'Parfait,'  said  the  sommelier,  proffering  the  leather- 
bound  wine  list. 

'If  you  agree,'  said  Bond,  'I  would  prefer  to  drink 
champagne  with  you  tonight.  It  is  a  cheerful  wine,  and  it 
suits  the  occasion — I  hope,'  he  added. 

'Yes,  I  would  like  champagne, '  she  said. 

With  his  finger  on  the  page,  Bond  turned  to  the 
sommelier: 'The  Taittinger  45?' 

'A  fine  wine,  monsieur,'  said  the  sommelier.  'But  if 
Monsieur  will  permit,'  he  pointed  with  his  pencil,  'the 
Brut  Blanc  de  Blanc  1943  of  the  same  marque  is  without 
equal.'  - 

Bond  smiled. 'So  be  it,' he  said. 

"That  is  not  a  well-known  brand,'  Bond  explained  to 
his  companion,  'but  it  is  probably  the  finest  champagne 
in  the  world.'  He  grinned  suddenly  at  the  touch  of 
pretension  in  his  remark. 

'You  must  forgive  me,'  he  said.  'I  take  a  ridiculous 
pleasure  in  what  I  eat  and  drink.  It  comes  partly  from 
being  a  bachelor,  but  mostly  from  a  habit  of  taking  a  lot 
of  trouble  over  details.  It's  very  pernickety  and  old- 
maidish  really,  but  then  when  I'm  working  I  generally 


PINK  LIGHTS  AND  CHAMPAGNE  55 

have  to  eat  my  meals  alone  and  it  makes  them  more  inT 
teresting  when  one  takes  trouble.'  ■ 
Vesper  smiled  at  him. 

'I  like  it,'  she  said.  'I  like  doing  everything  fully,  get- 
ting the  most  out  of  everything  one  does.  I  think  that's 
the  way  to  live.  But  it  sounds  rather  schoolgirlish  when 
one  says  it, 5  she  added  apologetically. 

The  little  carafe  of  Vodka  had  arrived  in  its  bowl  of 
crushed  ice,  and  Bond  filled  their  glasses. 

'Well,  I  agree  with  you  anyway,'  he  said,  'and  now, 
here's  luck  for  tonight,  Vesper.'  ,  , 

'Yes,'  said  the  girl  quietly,  as  she  held  up  her  small, 
glass  and  looked  at  him  with  a  curious  directness 
straight  in  the'eyes.  'I  hope  all  will  go  well  tonight. - 

She  seemed  to  Bond  to  give  a  quick  involuntary  shrug 
of  the  shoulders  as  she  spoke,  but  then  she  leant  im- 
pulsively towards  him.  : 

'I  have  some  news  for  you  from  Mathis.  He  was 
longing  to  tell  you  himself.  It's,  about  the  bomb:  It's  a 
fantastic  story.' 


CHAPTER  9 

The  Game  is  Baccarat 


Bond  looked  round;  but  there  was  no  possibility 
of  being  overheard,  and  the  cayiar  would  be  waiting  for 
the  hot  toast  from  the  kitchens. 

'Tell  me. '  His  eyes  glittered  with  interest. 

'They  got  the  third  Bulgar,  on  the  road  to  Paris.  He 
was  in  a  Citroen,  and  he  had  picked  up  two  English 
hikers  as  protective  colouring.  At  the  roadblock  his 
French  was  so  bad  that  they  asked  for  his  papers,  and  he 
brought  out  a  gun  and  shot  one  of  the  motor-cycle 
patrol.  But  the  other  man  got  him,  I  don't  know  how, 
and  managed  to  stop  him  committing  suicide.  Then  they 
took  him  down  to  Rouen  and  extracted  the  story — in  the 
usual  French  fashion,  I  suppose. 

'Apparently  they  were  part  of  a  pool  held  in  France 
for  this  sort  of  job — saboteurs,  thugs,  and  so  on — and 
Mathis's  friends  are  already  trying  to  round  up  the  rest. 
They  were  to  get  two  million  francs  for  killing  you,  and 
the  agent  who  briefed  them  told  them  there  was  ab- 


56 


THE  GAME  IS  BACCARAT 


57 


solutely  no  chance  of  being  caught  if  they  followed  his 
instructions  exactly.' 

She  took  a  sip  of  vodka.  'But  this  is  the  interesting 
part. 

'The  agent  gave  them  the  two  camera-cases  you  saw. 
He  said  the  bright  colours  would  make  it  easier  for 
them.  He  told  them  that  the  blue  case  contained  a  very 
powerful  smoke-bomb.  The  red  case  was  the  explosive. 
As  one  of  them  threw  the  red  case  the  other  was  to  press 
a  switch  on  the  blue  case,  and  they  would  escape  under 
cover  of  the  smoke.  In  fact,  the  smoke-bomb  was  a  pure 
invention  to  make  the  Bulgars  think  they  could  get 
away.  Both  cases  contained  an  identical  high-explosive 
bomb.  There  was  no  difference  between  the  blue  and  the 
red  cases.  The  idea  was  to  destroy  you  and  the  bomb- 
throwers  without  a  trace.  Presumably  there  were  other 
plans  for  dealing  with  the  third  man. ' 

'Go  on,'  said  Bond,  full  of  admiration  for  the 
ingenuity  of  the  double-cross. 

'Well,  apparently  the  Bulgars  thought  this  sounded 
very  fine,  but  cannily  they  decided  to  take  no  chances.  It 
would  be  better,  they  thought,  to  touch  off  the  smoke- 
bomb  first  and,  from  inside  the  cloud  of  smoke,  hurl  the 
explosive  bomb  at  you.  What  you  saw  was  the  assistant 
bomb-thrower  pressing  down  the  lever  on  the  phony 
smoke-bomb;  and,  of  course,  they  both  went  up 
together. 

'The  third  Bulgar  was  waiting  behind  the  Splendide  to 
pick  his  two  friends  up.  When  he  saw  what  had  hapr 
pened,  he  assumed  they  had  bungled.  But  the  police 
picked  up  some  fragments  of  the  unexploded  red  bomb, 
and  he  was  confronted  with  them.  When  he  saw  that 
they  had  been  tricked  and  that  his  two  friends  were 
meant  to  be  murdered  with  you,  he  started  to  talk.  I  ex- 
pect he's  still  talking  now.  But  there's  nothing  to  link  all 
this  with  Le  Chiffre.  They  were  given  the  job  by  some 
intermediary,  perhaps  one  of  Le  Chiffre's  guards,  and 


58 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Le  Chiffre's  name  means  absolutely  nothing  to  the  one 
who  survived.' 

She  finished  her  story  just  as  the  waiters  arrived  with 
the  caviarj  a  mound  of  hot  toast,  and  small  dishes  con- 
taining finely  chopped  onion  and  grated  hard-boiled 
egg,  the  white  in  one  dish  and  the  yolk  in  another. 

The  caviar  was  heaped  on  to  their  plates,  and  they  ate 
for  a  time  in  silence. 

After  a  while  Bond  said:  'It's  very  satisfactory  to  be  a 
corpse  who  changes  places  with  his  murderers.  For  them, 
it  certainly  was  a  case  of  being  hoist  with  their  own 
petard.  Mathis  must  be  very  pleased  with  the  day's 
work — five  of  the  opposition  neutralized  in  twenty-four 
hours.'  And  he  told  her  how  the  Muntzes  had  been  con- 
founded. 

'Incidentally,'  he  asked,  'how  did  you  come  to  get 
mixed  up  in  this  affair?  What  section  are  you  in?' 

'I'm  personal  assistant  to  Head  of  S,'  said  Vesper. 
'As  it  was  his  plan  he  wanted  his  section  to  have  a  hand 
in  the  operation,  and  he  asked  M.  if  I  could  go.  It 
seemed  only  to  be  a  liaison  job,  so  M.  said  yes  although 
he  told  my  chief  that  you  would  be  furious  at  being 
given  a  woman  to  work  with.'  She  paused  and,  when 
Bond  said  nothing,  continued:  'I  had  to  meet  Mathis  in 
Paris  and  come  down  with  him.  I've  got  a  friend  who  is 
a  vendeuse  with  Dior,  and  somehow  she  managed  to 
borrow  me  this  and  the  frock  I  was  wearing  this  morn- 
ing; otherwise  I  couldn't  possibly  have  competed  with 
all  these  people.'  She  made  a  gesture  towards  the  room. 
'The  office  was  very  jealous  although  they  didn't  know 
what  the  job  was.  All  they  knew  was  that  I  was  to  work 
with  a  Double  O.  Of  course  you're  our  heroes.  I  was  en- 
chanted.' 

Bond  frowned.  'It's  not  difficult  to  get  a  Double  O 
number  if  you're  prepared  to  kill  people,'  he  said. 
'That's  all  the  meaning  it  has.  It's  nothing  to  be  par- 
ticularly proud  of.  I've  got  the  corpses  of  a  Japanese 
cipher  expert  in  New  York  and  a  Norwegian  double 


THE  GAME  IS  BACCARAT 


59 


agent  in  Stockholm  to  thank  for  being  a  Double  O. 
Probably  quite  decent  people.  They  just  got  caught  up 
in  the  gale  of  the  world  like  that  Yugoslav  that  Tito 
bumped  off.  It's  a  confusing  business;  but  if  it's  one's 
profession  one  does  what  one's  told.  How  do  you  like 
the  grated  egg  with  your  caviar? ' 

'It's  a  wonderful  combination,'  she  said.  'I'm  loving 
my  dinner.  It  seems  a  shame — '  She  stopped,  warned  by 
a  cold  look  in  Bond's  eye. 

'If  it  wasn't  for  the  job,  we  wouldn't  be  here,'  he 
said. 

Suddenly  he  regretted  the  intimacy  of  their  dinner  and 
of  their  talk.  He  felt  that  he  had  said  too  much  and  what 
was  only  a  working  relationship  had  become  confused. 

'Let's  consider  what  has  to  be  done,'  he  said  in  a 
matter-of-fact  voice.  'I'd  better  explain  what  I'm  going 
to  try  and  do,  and  how  you  can  help.  Which  isn't  very 
much,  I'm  afraid,'  he  added.  'Now  these  are  the  basic 
facts.'  He  proceeded  to  sketch  out  the  plan  and 
enumerate  the  various  contingencies  which  faced  them. 

The  maltre  d'hdtel  surpervised  the  serving  of  the 
second  course,  and  then  as  they  ate  the  delicious  food 
Bond  continued. 

She  listened  to  him  coldly,  but  with  attentive  obedi- 
ence. She-  felt  thoroughly  deflated  by  his  harshness, 
while  admitting  to  herself  that  she  should  have  paid 
more  heed  to  the  warnings  of  Head  of  S. 

'He's  a  dedicated  man,'  her  chief  had  said  when  he 
gave  her  the  assignment.  'Don't  imagine  this  is  going  to 
be  any  fun.  He  thinks  of  nothing  but  the  job  on  hand 
and,  while  it's  on,  he's  absolute  hell  to  work  for.  But 
he's  an  expert,  and  there  aren't  many  about;  so  you 
won't  be  wasting  your  time.  He's  a  good-looking 
chap— but  don't  fall  for  him.  I  don't  think  he's  got 
much  heart.  Anyway,  good  luck,  and  don't  get  hurt. ' 

All  this  had  been  something  of  a  challenge,  and  she 
was  pleased  when  she  felt  she  attracted  and  interested 
him,  as  she  knew  intuitively  that  she  did.  Then  at  a  hint 


60 


CASINO  ROYALE 


that  they  were  finding  pleasure  together,  a  hint  that  was 
only  the  first  words  of  a  conventional  phrase,  he  had 
suddenly  turned  to  ice  and  had  brutally  veered  away  as 
if  warmth  were  poison  to  him.  She  felt  hurt  and  foolish. 
Then  she  gave  a  mental  shrug  and  concentrated  with  all 
her  attention  on  what  he  was  saying.  She  would  not 
make  the  same  mistake  again. 

' .  . .  and  the  main  hope  is  to  pray  for  a  run  of  luck  for 
me,  or  against  him.' 

Bond  was  explaining  just  how  baccarat  is  played. 

'It's  much  the  same  as  any  other  gambling  game.  The 
odds  against  the  banker  and  the  player  are  more  or  less 
even.  Only  a  run  against  either  can  be  decisive  and 
'  'break  the  bank, ' '  or  break  the  players. 

•  'Tonight,  Le  Chiffre,  we  know,  has  bought  the  bac- 
carat bank  from  the  Egyptian  syndicate  which  is  run- 
ning the  high  tables  here.  He  paid  a  million  francs  for  it, 
and  his  capital  has'been  reduced  to  twenty-four  million. 
I  have  about  the  same.  There  will  be  ten  players,  I  ex- 
pect, and  we  sit  round  the  banker  at  a  kidney-shaped 
table. 

'Generally,  this  table  is  divided  into  two  tableaux. 
The  banker  plays  two  games,  one  against  each  of  the 
tableaux  to  left  and  right  of  him.  In  that  game,  the 
banker  should  be  able  to  win  by  playing  off  one  tableau 
against  the  other  and  by  first-class  accountancy.  But 
there  aren't  enough  baccarat  players  yet  at  Royale,  and 
Le  Chiffre  is  just  going  to  pit  his  luck  against  the  other 
players  at  the  single  tableau.  It's ,  unusual  because  the 
odds  in  favour  of  the  banker  aren't  so  good;  but  they're 
a  shade  in  his  favour  and,  of  course,  he  has  control  of 
the  size  of  the  stakes. 

'Well,  the  banker  sits  there  in  the  middle  with  a 
croupier  to  rake  in  the  cards  and  call  the  amount  of  each 
bank  and  a  chef  de  partie  to  umpire  the  game  generally. 
I  shall  be  sitting  as  near  dead  opposite  Le  Chiffre  as  I 
can  get.  In  front  of  him  he  has  a  shoe  containing  six 
packs  of  cards,  well  shuffled.  There's  absolutely  no 


THE  GAME  IS  BACCARAT 


61 


chance  of  tampering  with  the  shoe.  The  cards  are  shuf- 
fled by  the  croupier  and  cut  bygone  of  the  players  and 
put  into  the  shoe  in  full  view  of  the  table.  We've 
checked  on  the  staff,  and  they're  all  okay.  It  would  be 
useful,  but  almost  impossible,  to  mark  all  the  cards,  and 
it  would  mean  the  connivance  at  least  of  the  croupier. 
Anyway,  we  shall  be  watching  for  that  too. ' 

•Bond  drank  some  champagne  and  continued. 

'Now  what  happens  at  the  game  is  this.  The  banker 
announces  an  opening  bank  of  five  hundred  thousand 
francs,  or  five  hundred  pounds  as  it  is  now.  Each  seat  is 
numbered  from  the  right  of  the  banker,  and  the  player 
next  to  the  banker,  or  Number  1,  can  accept  this  bet  and 
push  his  money  out  on  to  the  table,  or  pass  it  if  it  is  too 
much  or  he  doesn't  want  to  take  it.  Then  Number  2  has 
the  right  to  take  it;  and  if  he  refuses  then  Number  3,  and 
so  on  round  the  table.  If  no  single  player  takes  it  all,  the 
bet  is  offered  to  the  table  as  a  whole  and  everyone  chips 
in,  including  sometimes  the  spectators  round  the  table, 
until  the  five  hundred  thousand  is  made  up. 

'That  is  a  small  bet  which  would  immediately  be  met, 
but  when  it  gets  to  a  million  or  two,  it's  often  difficult  to 
find  a  taker  or  even,  if  the  bank  seems  to  be  in  luck,  a 
group  of  takers  to  cover  the  bet.  At  that  moment  I  shall 
always  try  and  step  in  and  accept  the  bet— in  fact,  I  shall 
attack  Le  Chiffre's  bank  whenever  I  get  a  chance  until 
either  I've  bust  his  bank  or  he's  bust  me.  It  may  take 
some  time,  but  in  the  end  one  of  us  two  is  bound  to 
break  the  other,  irrespective  of  the  other  players  at  the 
table,  although  they  can,  of  course,  make  him  richer  or 
poorer  in  the  meantime. 

'Being  the  banker,  he's  got  a  slight  advantage  in  the 
play;  but  knowing  that  I'm  making  a  dead  set  at  him 
and  now  knowing,  I  hope,  my  capital,  is  bound  to  play 
on  his  nerves  a  bit,  so  I'm  hoping  that  we  start  about 
equal.' 

He  paused  while  the  strawberries  came,  and  the 
avocado  pear. 


62 


CASINO  ROYALE 


For  a  while  they  ate  in  silence,  then  they  talked  of 
other  things  while  the  coffee  was  served.  They  smoked. 
Neither  of  them  drank  brandy  or  a  liqueur.  Finally, 
Bond  felt  it  was  time  to  explain  the  actual  mechanics  of 
the  game. 

'It's  a  simple  affair,'  he  said,  'and  you'll  understand 
it  at  once  if  you've  ever  played  vingt-et-un,  where  the 
object  is  to  get  cards  from  the  banker  which  add  up 
more  closely  to  a  count  of  twenty-one  than  his  do.  In 
this  game  I  get  two  cards  and  the  banker  gets  two;  and, 
unless  anyone  wins  outright,  either  or  both  of  us  can  get 
one  more  card.  The  object  of  the  game  is  to  hold  two,  or 
three  cards  which  together  count  nine  points,  Or  as 
nearly  nine  as  possible.  Court  cards  and  tens  count 
nothing;  aces  one  each;  any  other  card  its  face  value.  It 
is  only  the  last  figure  of  your  count  that  signifies.  So 
nine  plus  seven  equals  six — not  sixteen. 

'The  winner  is  the  one  whose  count,  is  nearest  to  nine. 
Draws  are  played  over  again.' 

Vesper  listened  attentively,  but  she  also  watched  the 
look  of  abstract  passion  on  Bond's  face. 

'Now,'  Bond  continued,  'when  the  banker  deals  me 
my  two  cards,  if  they  add  up  to  eight  or  nine,  they're  a 
"natural"  and  I  turn  them  up  and  I  win,  unless  he  has 
an  equal  or  a  better  natural.  If  I  haven't  got  a  natural,  I 
can  stand  on  a  seven  or  a  six,  perhaps  ask  for  a  card  or 
perhaps  not,  on  a  five,  and  certainly  ask  for  a  card  if  my 
count  is  lower  than  five.  Five  is  the  turning  point  of  the 
game.  According  to  the  odds,  the  chance  of  bettering  or 
worsening  your  hand  if  you  hold  a  five  are  exactly  even. 

'Only  when  I  ask  for  a  card  or  tap  mine  to  signify  that 
I  stand  on  what  I  have,  can  the  banker  look  at  his.  If  he 
has  a  natural,  he  turns  them  up  and  wins.  Otherwise  he 
is  faced  with  the  same  problems  as  I  was.  But  he  is 
helped  in  his  decision  to  draw  or  not  to  draw  a  card  by 
my  actions.  If  I  have  stood  he  must  assume  that  I  have  a 
five,  six,  or  seven:  if  I  have  drawn,  he  will  know  that  I 
had  something  less  than  a  six  and  I  may  have  improved 


THE  GAME  IS  BACCARAT 


63 


my  hand  or  not  with  the  card  he  gave  me.  And  this  card 
was  dealt  to  me  face  up.  On  its  face  value  and  a 
knowledge  of  the  odds,  he  will  know  whether  to  take 
another  card  or  to  stand  on  his  own. 

'So  he  has  a  very  slight  advantage  over  me.  He  has  a 
tiny  help  over  his  decision  to  draw  or  to  stand.  But  there 
is  always  one  problem  card  at  this  game:  Shall  one  draw 
or  stand  on  a  five,  and  what  will  your  opponent  do  with 
a  five?  Some  players  always  draw  or  always  stand,.  I 
follow  my  intuition.  '...',■!' 

'But  in  the  end' — Bond  stubbed  out  his  cigarette  and 
called  for  the  bill — 'it's  the  natural  eights  and  nines  that 
matter,  and  I  must  just  see  that  I  get  more  of  them  than 
he  does.' 


CHAPTER  10 

The  High  Table 


While  telling  the  story  of  the  game  and  an- 
ticipating the  coming  fight,  Bond's  face  had  lit  up 
again.  The  prospect  of  at  last  getting  to  grips  with 
Le  Chiffre  stimulated  him  and  quickened  his  pulse.  He 
seemed  to  have  completely  forgotten  the  brief  coolness 
between  them,  and  Vesper  was  relieved  and  entered  into 
his  mood. 

He  paid  the  bill  and  gave  a  handsome  tip  to  the  som- 
melier.  Vesper  rose  and  led  the  way  out  of  the  restaurant 
and  out  on  to  the  steps  of  the  hotel. 

The  big  Bentley  was  waiting  and  Bond  drove  Vesper 
over,  parking  as  close  to  the  entrance  as  he  could.  As 
they  walked  through  the  ornate  anterooms,  he  hardly 
spoke.  She  looked  at  him  and  saw  that  his  nostrils  were , 
slightly  flared.  In  other  respects  he  seemed  completely  at 
ease,  acknowledging  cheerfully  the  greetings  of  the 
Casino  functionaries.  At  the  door  to  the  salle  privee 
they  were  not  asked  for  their  membership  cards.  Bond's 
high  gambling  had  already  made  him  a  favoured  client, 


64 


THE  HIGH  TABLE 


65 


and  any  companion  of  his  shared  in  the  glory. 

Before  they  had  penetrated  very  far  into  the  main 
room,  Felix  Leiter  detached  himself  from  one  of  the 
roulette  tables  and  greeted  Bond  as  an  old  friend.,  After 
being  introduced  to  Vesper  Lynd  and  exchanging  a  few 
remarks,  Leiter  said:  'Well,  since  you're  playing  bac- 
carat this  evening,  will  you  allow  me  to  show  Miss  Lynd 
how  to  break  the  bank  at  roulette?  I've  got  three  lucky 
numbers  that  are  bound  to  show  soon,  and  I  expect  Miss 
Lynd  has  some  too.  Then  perhaps  we  could  come  and 
watch  you  when  your  game  starts  to  warm  up. ' 

Bond  looked  inquiringly  at  Vesper. 

'I  should  love  that,'  she  said.  'But  will  you  give  me 
one  of  your  lucky  numbers  to  play  on? ' 

'I  have  no  lucky  numbers,'  said  Bond  unsmilingly.  'I 
only  bet  on  even  chances,  or  as  near  them  as  I  can  get. 
Well,  I  shall  leave  you  then.'  He  excused  himself.  'You 
will  be  in  excellent  hands  with  .my  friend  Felix  Leiter. ' 
He  gave  a  short  smile  which'  embraced  them  both  and 
walked  with  an  unhurried  gait  towards  the  caisse. 

Leiter  sensed  the  rebuff, 

'He's  a  very  serious  gambler,  Miss  Lynd,'  he  said. 
'And  I  guess  he  has  to  be.  Now  come  with  me  and  watch 
Number  17  obey  my  extrasensory  perceptions.  You'll 
find  it  quite  a  painless  sensation  being  given  plenty  of 
money  for  nothing. ' 

Bond  was  relieved  to  be  on  his  own  again  and  tq  be 
able  to  clear  his  mind  of  everything  but  the  task  on 
hand.  He  stood  at  the  caisse  and  took  his  twenty-four 
million  francs  against  the  receipt  which  had  been  given 
him  that  afternoon.  He  divided  the  notes  into  equal , 
packets  and  put  half  the  sum  into  his  right-hand  coat 
pocket  and  the  other  half  into  the  left.  Then  he  strolled 
slowly  across  the  room  between  the  thronged  tables 
until  he  came  to  the  top  of  the  room  where  the  broad 
baccarat  table  waited  behind  the  brass  rail. 

The  table  was  filling  up,  and  the  cards  were  spread 
face  down,  being  stirred  and  mixed  slowly  in  what  is 


66 


CASINO  ROYALE 


known  as  the  'croupiers'  shuffle' — supposedly  the 
shuffle  which  is  most  effective  and  least  susceptible  to 
cheating. 

The  chef  de  partie  lifted  the  velvet-covered  chain 
which  allowed  entrance  through  the  brass  rail. 

'I've  kept  Number  6  as  you  wished,  Monsieur  Bond.' 

There  were  still  three  other  empty  places  at  the  table. 
Bond  moved  inside  the  rail  to  which  a  huissier  was 
holding  out  his  chair.  He  sat  down  with  a  nod  to  the 
players  on  his  right  and  left.  He  took  out  his  wide  gun- 
metal  cigarette  case  and  his  black  lighter  and  placed 
them  on  the  green  baize  at  his  right  elbow.  The  huissier 
wiped  a  thick  glass  ashtray  with  a  cloth  and  put  it  beside 
them.  Bond  lit  a  cigarette  and  leant  back  in  his  chair. 

Opposite  him,  the  banker's  chair  was  vacant.  He 
glanced  round  the  table.  He  knew  most  of  the  players  by 
sight,  but,  few  of  their  names.  At  Number  7,  on  his 
right,  there  was  a  Monsieur  Sixte,  a  wealthy  Belgian 
with  metal  interests  in  the  Congo.  At  Number  9  there 
was  Lord  Danvers,  a  distinguished  but  weak-looking 
man  whose  francs  were  presumably  provided  by  his  rich 
American  wife,  a  middle-aged  woman  with  the 
predatory  mouth  of  a  barracuda,  who  sat  at  Number  3 . 
Bond  reflected  that  they  would  probably  play  a  pawky 
and  nervous  game  and  be  amongst  the  early  casualties. 
At  Number  1 ,  to  the  right  of  the  bank,  was  a  well- 
known  Greek  gambler  who  owned,  as  in  Bond's  ex- 
perience apparently  everyone  does  in  the  eastern 
Mediterranean,  a  profitable  shipping  line.  He  would 
play  coldly  and  well  and  would  be  a  stayer. 

Bond  asked  the  huissier  for  a  card  and  wrote  on  it, 
under  a  neat  question  mark,  the  remaining  numbers,  2, 
4,  5,  8,  10,  and  asked  the  huissier  to  give  it  to  the  chef  de 
partie. 

Soon  it  came  back  with  the  names  filled  in. 
Number  2,  still  empty,  was  to  be  Carmel  Delane,  the 
American  film  star  with  alimony  from  three  husbands 


THE  HIGH  TABLE  67 

to  burn  and,  Bond  assumed,  a  call  on  still  more  from 
whoever  her  present  companion  at  Royale  might  be. 
With  her  sanguine  temperament  she  would  play  gaily 
and  with  panache  and  might  run  into  a  vein  of  luck. 

Then  came  Lady  Danvers  at  Number  3  and  Numbers 
4  and  5  were  a  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Du  Pont,  rich-looking, 
who  might  or  might  not  have  some  of  the  real  Du  Pont 
money  behind  them.  Bond  guessed  they  would  be 
stayers.  They  both  had  a  businesslike  look  about  them 
and  were  talking  together  easily  and  cheerfully  as  if  they 
felt  very  much  at  home  at  the  big  game.  Bond  was  quite 
happy  to  have  them  next  to  him— Mrs.  Du1  Pont  sat  at 
Number  5— and  he  felt  prepared  to  share  with  them  or 
with  Monsieur  Sixte  on  his  right,  if  they  found  them- 
selves faced  with  too  big  a  bank. 

At  Number  8  was  the  Maharajah  of  a  small  Indian 
state,  probably  with  all  his  wartime  sterling  balances  to 
play  with.  Bond's  experience  told  him  that  few  of  the 
Asiatic  races  were  courageous  gamblers,  even  the  much- 
vaunted  Chinese  being  inclined  to  lose  heart  if  the  going 
was  bad.  But  the  Maharajah  would  probably  stay  late  in 
the  game  and  stand  some  heavy  losses  if  they  were 
gradual. 

Number  10  was  a  prosperous-looking  young  Italian, 
Signor  Tomelli,  who  possibly  had  plenty  of  money  from 
rack-rents  in  Milan  and  would  probably  play  a  dashing 
and  foolish  game.  He  might  lose  his  temper  and  make  a 
scene. 

Bond  had  just  finished  his  sketchy  summing-up  of  the 
players  when  Le  Chiffre,  with  the  silence  and  economy 
of  movement  of  a  big  fish,  came  through  the  opening  in 
the  brass  rail  and,  with  a  cold  smile  of  welcome  for  the 
table,  took  his  place  directly  opposite  Bond  in  the 
Banker's  chair. 

With  the  same  economy  of  movement,  he  cut  the 
thick  slab  of  cards,  which  the  croupier  had  placed  on  the 
table  squarely  between  his  blunt  relaxed  hands.  Then,  as 


68 


CASINO  ROYALE 


the  croupier  fitted  the  six  packs  with  one  swift  motion 
into  the  metal  and  wooden  shoe,  Le  Chiffre  said 
something  quietly  to  him. 

'Messieurs,  mesdames,  les  jeux  sont  faits,  Un  banco 
de  cinq  cent  mille.'  And,  as  the  Greek  at  Number  1 
tapped  the  table  in  front  of  his  fat  pile  of  hundred-mille 
plaques:  'Le  banco  est  fait.' 

Le  Chiffre  crouched  over  the  shoe.  He  gave  it  a  short 
deliberate  slap  to  settle  the  cards,  the  first  of  which 
showed  its  semicircular  pale  pink  tongue  through  the 
slanting  aluminum  mouth  of  the  shoe.  Then,  with  a 
thick  white  forefinger  he  pressed  gently  on  the  pink 
tongue  and  slipped  out  the  first  card  six  inches  or  a  foot 
towards  the  Greek  on  his  right  hand.  Then  he  slipped 
out  a  card  for  himself,  then  another  for  the  Greek,  then 
one  more  for  himself. 

He  sat  immobile,  not  touching  his  own  cards. 

He  looked  at  the  Greek's  face. 

With  his  flat  wooden  spatula,  like  a  long  bricklayer's 
trowel,  the  croupier  delicately  lifted  up  the  Greek's  two 
cards  and  dropped  them  with  a  quick  movement  an 
extra  few  inches  to  the  right  so  that  they  lay  just  before 
the  Greek's  pale  hairy  hands,  which  lay  inert  like  two 
watchful  pink  crabs  on  the  table. 

The  two  pink  crabs  scuttled  out  together  and  the 
Greek  gathered  the  cards  into  his  wide  left  hand  and 
cautiously  bent  his  head  so  that  he  could  see,  in  the 
shadow  made  by  his  cupped  hand,  the  value  of  the 
bottom  of  the  two  cards.  Then  he  slowly  inserted  the 
forefinger  of  his  right  hand  and  slipped  the  bottom  card 
slightly  sideways  so  that  the  value  of  the  top  card  was 
also  just  perceptible. 

His  face  was  quite  impassive.  He  flattened  out  his  left 
hand  on  the  table  and  then  withdrew  it,  leaving  the  two 
pink  cards  face  down  before  him,  their  secret 
unrevealed. 

Then  he  lifted  his  head  and  looked  Le  Chiffre  in  the 
eye. 


THE  HIGH  TABLE 


69 


'Non,' said  the  Greek  flatly. 

From  the  decision  to  stand  on  his  two  cards  and  not 
to  ask  for  another,  it  was  clear  that  the  Greek  had  a  five, 
or  a  six,  or  a  seven.  To  be  certain  Of  winning,  the  bank 
had  to  reveal  an  eight  or  a  nine.  If  the  banker  failed  to 
show  either  figure,  he  also  had  the  right  to  take  another 
card  which  might  or  might  not  improve  his  count. 

Le  Chiffre's  hands  were  clasped  in  front  of  him,  his 
two  cards  three  or  four  inches  away.  With  his  right  hand 
he  picked  up  the  two  cards  and  turned  them  face  up- 
wards on  the  table  with  a  faint  snap. 

They  were  a  four  and  a  five,  an  uhdef eatable  natural 
nine. 

He  had  won. 

'Neuf  a  la  banque,'  quietly  said  the  croupier.  With  his 
spatula  he  faced  the  Greek's  two  cards,  'Et  le  sept,'  he 
said  unemotionally,  lifting  up  gently  the  corpses  of  the 
seven  and  queen  and  slipping  them  through  the  wide  slot 
in  the  table  near  his  chair  which  leads  into  the  big  metal 
canister  to  which  all  dead  cards  are  consigned.  Le 
Chiffre's  two  cards  followed  them  with  the  faint  rattle 
which  comes  from  the  canister  at  the  beginning  of  each 
session  before  the  discards  have  made  a  cushion  over  the 
metal  floor  of  their  oubliette. 

The  Greek  pushed  forward  five  plaques  of  one 
hundred  thousand,  and  the  coupier  added  these  to 
Le  Chiffre's  half-million  plaque  which  lay  in  the  centre 
of  the  table.  From  each  bet  the  Casino  takes  a  tiny  per- 
centage, the  cagnotte;  but  it  is  usual  at  a  big  game  for 
the  banker  to  subscribe  this  himself  either  in  a  pre- 
arranged lump  sum  or  by  contributions  at  the  end  of 
each  hand,  so  that  the  amount  of  the  bank's  stake  can 
always  be  a  round  figure.  Le  Chiffre  had  chosen  the 
second  course. 

The  croupier  slipped  some  counters  through  the  slot 
in  the  table  which  receives  the  cagnotte  and  announced 
quietly: 

'Un  banco  d'un  million.' 


70 


CASINO  ROYALE 


'Suivi,'  murmured  the  Greek,  meaning  that  he  exer- 
cised his  right  to  follow  up  his  lost  bet. 

Bond  lit  a  cigarette  and  settled  himself  in  his  chair. 
The  long  game  was  launched,  and  the  sequence  of  these 
gestures  and  the  reiteration  of  this  subdued  litany  would 
continue  until  the  end  came  and  the  players  dispersed. 
Then  the  enigmatic  cards  would  be  burnt  or  defaced,  a 
shroud  would  be  draped  over  the  table,  and  the  grass- 
green  baize  battlefield  would  soak  up  the  blood  of  its 
victims  and  refresh  itself. 

The  Greek,  after  taking  a  third  card,  could  achieve  no 
better  than  a  four  to  the  bank's  seven. 

'Un  banco  dedeux  millions,'  said  the  coupier. 

The  players  on  Bond's  left  remained  silent. 

'Banco,'  said  Bond. 


CHAPTER  11 

■I 

Moment  of  Truth 


Le  Chiffre  looked  incuriously  at  him,  the  whites 
of  his  eyes,  which  showed  all  round  the  irises,  lending 
something  impassive  and  doll-like  to  his  gaze. 

He  slowly  removed  one  thick  hand  from  the  table  and 
slipped  it  into  the  pocket  of  his  dinner-jacket.  The  hand 
came  out  holding  a  small  metal  cylinder  with  a  cap 
which  Le  Chiffre  unscrewed.  He  inserted  the  nozzle  of 
the  cylinder,  with  an  obscene  deliberation,  twice  into 
each  black  nostril  in  turn,  and  luxuriously  inhaled  the 
benzedrine  vapour. 

Unhurriedly  he  pocketed  the  inhaler;  then  his  hand 
came  quickly  back,  above  the  level  of  .  the  table  and  gave 
the  shoe  its  usual  hard,  sharp  slap. 

During  this  offensive  pantomime  Bond  had  coldly 
held  the  banker's  gaze,  taking  in  the  wide  expanse  of 
white  face  surmounted  by  the  short  abrupt  cliff  of  red- 
dish brown  hair,  the  unsmiling  wet  red  mouth,  and  the 


71 


72 


CASINO  ROYALE 


impressive  width  of  the  shoulders,  loosely  draped  in  a 
massively  cut  dinner-jacket. 

But  for  the  high-lights  on  the  satin  of  the  shawl-cut 
lapels,  he  might  have  been  faced  by  the  thick  bust  of  a 
black-fleeced  Minotaur  rising  out  of  a  green  grass  field. 

Bond  slipped  a  packet  of  notes  on  to  the  table  without 
counting  them.  If  he  lost,  the  croupier  would  extract 
what  was  necessary  to  cover  the  bet;  but  the  easy  gesture 
conveyed  that  Bond  didn't  expect  to  lose,  and  that  this 
was  only  a  token  display  from  the  deep  funds  at  Bond's 
disposal. 

The  other  players  sensed  a  tension  between  the  two 
gamblers,  and  there  was  a  silence  as  Le  Chiffre  fingered 
the  four  cards  out  of  the  shoe. 

The  croupier  slipped  Bond's  two  cards  across  to  him 
with  the  tip  of  his  spatula.  Bond,  still  with  his  eyes 
holding  Le  Chiffre's,  reached  his  right  hand  out  a  few 
inches,  glanced  down  very  swiftly,  then  as  he  looked  up 
again  impassively  at  Le  Chiffre,  with  a  disdainful 
gesture  he  tossed  the  cards  face  upwards  on  the  table. 

They  were  a  four  and  a  five-^an  unbeatable  nine. 

There  was  a  little  gasp  of  envy  from  the  table,  and  the 
players  to  the  left  of  Bond  exchanged  rueful  glances  at 
their  failure  to  accept  the  two-million-franc  bet. 

With  the  hint  of  a  shrug,  Le  Chiffre  slowly  faced  his 
own  two  cards  and  flicked  them  away  with  his  finger- 
nail. They  were  two  valueless  knaves. 

'Le  baccarat,'  intoned  the  croupier  as  he  spaded  the 
thick  chips  over  the  table  to  Bond . 

Bond  slipped  them  into  his  right-hand  pocket  with  the 
unused  packet  of  notes.  His  face  showed  no  emotion, 
but  he  was  pleased  with  the  success  of  his  first  coup  and 
with  the  outcome  of  the  silent  clash  of  wills  across  the : 
table. 

The  woman  on  his  left,  the  American  Mrs.  Du  Pont, 
turned  to  him  with  a  wry  smile. 

'I  shouldn't  have  let  it  come  to  you,'  she  said.  'Di- 


MOMENT  OFTRUTH 


73 


rectly  the  cards  were  dealt  I  kicked  myself. ' 

'It's  only  the  beginning  of  the  game/  said  Bond.  'You 
may  be  right  the  next  time  you  pass  it. ' 

Mr.  Du  Pont  leant  forward  from  the  other  side  of  his 
wife:  'If  one  could  be  right  every  hand,  none  of  us 
would  be  here, '  he  said  philosophically. 

'I  would  be,'  his  wife  laughed.  'You  don't  think  I  do 
this  for  pleasure.' 

As  the  game  went  on,  Bond  looked  over  the  spec- 
tators leaning  on  the  high  brass  rail  round  the  table.  He 
soon  saw  Le  Chiffre's  two  gunmen.  They  stood  behind 
and  to  either  side  of  the  banker.  They  looked  respect- 
able enough,  but  not  sufficiently  a  part  of  the  game  to 
be  unobtrusive,  1 

The  one  more  or  less  behind  Le  Chiffre's  right  arm 
was  tall  and  funereal  in  his  dinner-jacket.  His  face  was 
wooden  and  grey,  but  his  eyes  flickered  and  gleamed 
like  a  conjurer's.  His  whole  long  body  was  restless,  and 
his  hands  shifted  often  on  the  brass  rail.  Bond  guessed 
that  he  would  kill  without  interest  or  concern  for  what 
he  killed,  and  that  he  would  prefer  strangling.  He  had 
something  of  Lennie  in  Of  Mice  and  Men,  but  his 
inhumanity  would  not  come  from  infantilism  but  from 
drugs.  Marihuana,  decided  Bond. 

The  other  man  looked  like  a  Corsican  shopkeeper.  He 
was  short  and  very  dark  with  a  flat  head  covered  with 
thickly  greased  hair.  He  seemed  to  be  a  cripple.  A 
chunky  Malacca  cane  with  a  rubber  tip  hung  on  a  rail 
beside  him.  He  must  have  had  permission  to  bring  the 
cane  into  the  Casino  with  him,  reflected  Bond,  who 
knew  that  neither  sticks  nor  any  other  objects  were 
allowed  in  the  rooms  as  a  precaution  against  acts  of 
violence.  He  looked  sleek  and  well  fed.  His  mouth  hung 
vacantly  half  open  and  revealed  very  bad  teeth.  He  wore 
a  heavy  black  moustache,  and  the  backs  of  his  hands  on 
the  rail  were  matted  with  black  hair.  Bond  guessed  that 
hair  covered  most  of  his  squat  body.  Naked,  Bond  sup- 


74 


CASINO  ROYALE 


posed,  he  would  be  an  obscene  object. 

The  game  continued  uneventfully,  but  with  a  slight 
bias  against  the  bank. 

The  third  coup  is  the  'sound  barrier'  at  chemin-de-fer 
and  baccarat.  Your  luck  can  defeat  the  first  and  second 
tests,  but  when  the  third  deal  comes  along  it  most  often 
spells  disaster.  Again  and  again  at  this  point  you  find 
yourself  being  bounced  back  to  earth.  It  was  like  that 
now.  Neither  the  bank  nor  any  of  the  players  seemed  to 
be  able  to  get  hot.  But  there  was  a  steady  and  inexorable 
seepage  against  the  bank,  amounting  after  about  two 
hours'  play  to  ten  million  francs.  Bond  had  no  idea 
what  profits  Le  Chiffre  had  made  over  the  past  two 
days.  He  estimated  them  at  five  million  and  guessed  that 
now  the  banker's  capital  could  not  be  more  than  twenty 
million. 

In  fact,  Le  Chiffre  had  lost  heavily  all  that  afternoon. 
At  this  moment  he  only  had  ten  million  left. 

Bond,  on  the  other  hand,  by  one  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, had;  won  four  million,  bringing  his  resources  up  to 
twenty-eight  million. 

Bond  was  cautiously  pleased.  Le  Chiffre  showed  no 
trace  of  emotion.  He  continued  to  play  like  an 
automaton,  never  speaking  except  when  he  gave  in- 
structions in  a  low  aside  to  the  croupier  at  the  opening 
of  each  new  bank. 

Outside  the  pool  of  silence  round  the  high  table,  there 
was  the  constant  hum  of  the  other  tables,  chemin-de-  - 
fer,  roulette,  and  trente-et-quarante,  interspersed  with 
the  clear  calls  of  the  croupiers  and  occasional  bursts  of 
laughter  or  gasps  of  excitement  from  different  corners 
of  the  huge  salle. 

In  the  background  there  thudded  always  the  hidden 
metronome  of  the  Casino,  ticking  up  its  little  treasure  of 
one-per-cents  with  each  spin  of  a  wheel  and  each  turn  of 
a  card — a  pulsing  fat-cat  with  a  zero  for  a  heart. 

It  was  at  ten  minutes  past  one  by  Bond's  watch  that, 


MOMENT  OF  TRUTH 


75 


at  the  high  table,  the"  whole  pattern  of  play  suddenly 
altered. 

The  Greek  at  Number  1  was  still  having  a  bad  time. 
He  had  lost  the  first  coup  of  half  a  million  francs  and 
the  second.  He  passed  the  third  time,  leaving  a  bank  of 
two  millions.  Carmel  Delane  at  Number  2  refused  it.  So 
did  Lady  Danvers  at  Number  3. 

The  Du  Ponts  looked  at  each  other. 

'Banco,'  said  Mrs.  Du  Pont,  and  promptly  lost  to  the 
banker's  natural  eight. 

'Un  banco  de  quatre  millions, '  said  the  croupier. 

'Banco,'  said  Bond,  pushing  out  a  wad  of  notes. 

Again  he  fixed  Le  Chiffre  with  his  eye.  Again  he  gave 
only  a  cursory  look  at  his  two  cards . 

'No,'  he  said.  He  held  a  marginal  five.  The  position 
was  dangerous. 

Le  Chiffre  turned  up  a  knave  and  a  four.  He  gave  the 
shoe  another  slap.  He  drew  a  three. 

'Sept  a  la  banque,'  said  the  croupier,  'et  cinq,'  he 
added  as  he  tipped  Bond's  losing  cards  face  upwards. 
He  raked  over  Bond's  money,  extracted  four  million 
francs  and  returned  the  remainder  to  Bond. 

'Un  banco  de  huit  millions.' 

'Suivi,' said  Bond. 

And  lost  again,  to  a  natural  nine. 

In  two  coups  he  had  lost  twelve  million  francs.  By 
scrapping  the  barrel,  he  had  just  sixteen  million  francs 
left,'  exactly  the  amount  of  the  next  banco. 

Suddenly  Bond  felt  the  sweat  on  his  palms.  Like  snow 
in  sunshine  his  capital  had  melted.  With  the  covetous 
deliberation  of  the  winning  gambler,  Le  Chiffre  was 
tapping  a  light  tattoo  on  the  table  with  his  right  hand. 
Bond  looked  across  into  the  eyes  of  murky  basalt.  They 
held  an  ironical  question.  'Do  you  want  the  full  treat- 
ment?'they  seemed  to  ask. 

'Suivi,'  Bond  said  softly. 

He  took  some  notes  and  plaques  out  of  his  right-hand 


76 


CASINO  ROYALE 


pocket  and  the  entire  stack  of  notes  out  of  his  left  and 
pushed  them  forward.  There  was  no  hint  in  his 
movements  that  this  would  be  his  last  stake. 

His  mouth  felt  suddenly  as  dry  as  flock  wall-paper. 
He  looked  up  and  saw  Vesper  and  Felix  Leiter  standing 
where  the  gunman  with  the  stick  had  stood.  He  did  not 
know  how  long  they  had  been  standing  there.  Leiter 
looked  faintly  worried,  but  Vesper  smiled  en- ' 
couragement  at  him.. 

He  heard  a  faint  rattle  on  the  rail  behind  him  and 
turned  his  head.  The  battery  of  bad  teeth  under  the 
black  moustache  gaped  vacantly  back  at  him. 

'Le  jeu  est  fait,'  said  the  croupier,  and  the  two  cards 
came  slithering  towards  him  over  the  green  baize — a 
green  baize  which  was  no  longer  smooth,  but  thick  now, 
and  furry  and  almost  choking^  its  colour  as  livid  as  the 
grass  on  a  fresh  tomb. 

The  light  from  the  broad  satin-lined  shades  which  had 
seemed  so  welcoming  now  seemed  to  take  the  colour  out 
of  his  hand  as  he  glanced  at  the  cards.  Then  he  looked 
again. 

It  was  nearly  as  bad  as  it  could  have  been — the  king  of 
hearts  and  an  ace,  the  ace  of  spades.  It  squinted  up  at 
him  like  a  black  widow  spider. 

'A  card.'  He  still  kept  all  emotion  out  of  his  voice. 

Le  Chiffre  faced  his  own  two  cards.  He  had  a  queen 
and  a  black  five.  He  looked  at  Bond  and  pressed  out 
another  card  with  a  wide  forefinger.  The  table  was  ab- 
solutely silent.  He  faced  it  and  flicked  it  away.  The 
croupier  lifted  it  delicately  with  his  spatula  and  slipped 
it  over  to  Bond.  It  was  a  good  card,  the  five  of  hearts, 
but  to  Bond  it  was  a  difficult  fingerprint  in  dried  blood. 
He  now  had  a  count  of  six  and  Le  Chiffre  a  count  of 
five,  but  the  banker  having  a  five  and  giving  a  five, 
would  and  must  draw  another  card  and  try  and  improve 
with  a  one,  two,  three,  or  four.  Drawing  any  other  card 
he  would  be  defeated. 


MOMENTOFTRUTH 


77 


The  odds  were  on  Bond's  side,  but  now  it  was  Le 
Chiffre  who  looked  across  into  Bond's  eyes  and  hardly 
glanced  at  the  card  as  he  flicked  it  face  upwards  on  the 
table. 

It  was,  unnecessarily,  the  best,  a  four,  giving  the  bank 
a  count  of  nine.  He  had  won,  almost  slowing  up. 
Bond  was  beaten  and  cleaned  out. 


CHAPTER  12 

The  Deadly  Tube 


Bond  sat  silent,  frozen  with  defeat.  He  opened 
his  wide  black  case  and  took  out  a  cigarette.  He  snapped 
open  the  tiny  jaws  of  the  Ronson  and  lit  the  cigarette 
and  put  the  lighter  back  on  the  table.  He  took  a  deep 
lungful  of  smoke  and  expelled  it  between  his  teeth  with  a 
faint  hiss. 

What  now?  Back  to  the  hotel  and  bed,  avoiding  the 
commiserating  eyes  of  Mathis  and  Leiter  and  Vesper: 
Back  to  the  telephone  call  to  London,  and  then 
tomorrow  the  plane  home,  the  taxi  up  to  Regent's  Park, 
the  walk  up  the  .stairs  and  along  the  corridor,  and  M.'s 
cold  face  across  the  table,  his  forced  sympathy,  his 
'Better  luck  next  time';  and,  of  course,  there  couldn't  be 
one,  not  another.chance  like  this. 

He  looked  round  the  table  and  up  at  the  spectators. 
Few  were  looking  at  him.  They  were  waiting  while  the 
croupier  counted  the  money  and  piled  up  the  chips  in  a 
neat  stack  in  front  of  the  banker,  waiting  to  see  if 
anyone  would  conceivably  challenge  this  huge  bank  of 


78 


THE  DEADLY TUBE 


79 


thirty-two  million  francs,  this  wonderful  run  of 
banker's  luck. 

Leiter  had  vanished,  not  wishing  to  look  Bond  in  the 
eye  after  the  knock-out,  he  supposed.  Yet  Vesper 
looked  curiously  unmoved,  she  gave  him  a  smile  of  en- 
couragement. But  then,  Bond  reflected,  she  knew 
nothing  of  the  game.  Had  no  notion,  probably,  of  the 
bitterness  of  his  defeat. 

The  huissier  was  coming  towards  Bond  inside  the  rail. 
He  stopped  beside  him.  Bent  over  him.  Placed  a  squat 
envelope  beside  Bond  on  the  table.  It  was  as  thick  as  a 
dictionary.  Said  something  about  the  caisse.  Moved 
away  again. 

Bond's  heart  thumped.  He  took  the  heavy 
anonymous  envelope  below  the  level  of  the  table  and  slit 
it  open  with  his  thumbnail,  noticing  that  the  gum  was 
still  wet  on  the  flap. 

Unbelieving  and  yet  knowing  it  was  true,  he  felt  the 
broad  wads  of  notes.  He  slipped  them  into  his  pockets, 
retaining  the  half-sheet  of  notepaper  which  was  pinned 
to  the  topmost  of  them.  He  glanced  at  it  in  the  shadow 
below  the  table.  There  was  one  line  of  writing  in  ink: 
'Marshall  Aid.  Thirty-two  million  francs.  With  the 
compliments  of  the  U.S.A.' 

Bond  swallowed.  He  looked  over  towards  Vesper. 
Felix  Leiter  was  again  standing  beside  her.  He  grinned 
slightly,  and  Bond  smiled  back  and  raised  his  hand  from 
the  table  in  a  small  gesture  of  benediction.  Then  he  set 
his  mind  to  sweeping  away  all  traces  of  the  sense  of 
complete  defeat  which  had  swamped  him  a  few  minutes 
before.  This  was  a  reprieve,  but  only  a  reprieve.  There 
could  be  no  more  miracles.  This  time  he  had  to  win— if 
Le  Chif  fre  had  not  already  made  his  fifty  million — if  he 
was  going  to  go  on! 

The  croupier  had  completed  his  task  of  computing  the 
cagnotte,  changing  Bond's  notes  into  plaques,  and 
making  a  pile  of  the  giant  stake  in  the  middle  of  the 
table. 


80 


CASINO  ROYALE 


There  lay  thirty-two  thousand  pounds.  Perhaps, 
thought  Bond,  Le  Chiffre  needed  just  one  more  coup, 
even  a  minor  one  of  a  few  million  francs,  to  achieve  his 
object.  Then  he  would  have  made  his  fifty  million 
francs  and  would  leave  the  table.  By  tomorrow  his 
deficits  would  be  covered  and  his  position  secure. 
.  He  showed  no  signs  of  moving,  and  Bond  guessed 
with  relief  that  somehow  he  must  have  overestimated  Le 
Chiffre' s  resources. 

Then  the  only  hope,  thought  Bond,  was  to  stamp  on 
him  how.  Not  to  share  the  bank  with  the  table,  or  to 
take  some  minorr  part  of  it,  but  to  go  the  whole  hog. 
This  would  really  jolt  Le  Chiffre.  He  would  hate  to  see 
more  than  ten  or  fifteen  million  of  the  stake  covered, 
and  he  could  not  possibly  expect  anyone  to  banco  the 
entire  thirty-two  millions.  He  might  not  know  that  Bond 
had  been  cleaned  out,  but  he  must  imagine  that  Bond 
had  by  now  only  small  reserves.  He  could  not  know  of 
the  contents  of  the  envelope.  If  he  did,  he  would 
probably  withdraw  the  bank  and  start  all  over  again  on 
the  wearisome  journey  up  from  the  five  hundred  franc 
opening  bet. 

The  analysis  was  right.  ! 
Le  Chiffre  needed  another  eight  million. 
At  last  he  nodded. 
'Un  banco  de  trente-deux  millions.' 
The  croupier's  voice  rang  out.  A  silence  built  itself  up 
round  the  table. 

.   'Un  banco  de  trente-deux  millions. '  / 

In  a  louder,  prouder  voice  the  chef  de  partie  took  up 
the  cry,  hoping  to  draw  big  money  away  from  the  neigh- 
bouring chemin-de-fer  tables.  Besides,  this  was  won- 
derful publicity.  The  stake  had  only  once  been  reached 
in  the  history  of  baccarat — at  Deauville  in  1950.  The, 
rival  Casino  de  la  ForSt  at  Le  Touquet  had  never  got 
near  it. 

It  was  then  that  Bond  leant  slightly  forward. 
'Suivi,'  he  said  quietly. 


THEDEADLYTUBE 


There  was  an  excited  buzz  round  the  table.  The  word 
ran  through  the  Casino.  People  crowded  in.  Thirty-two 
million!  For  most  of  them  it  was  more  than  they  had 
earned  all  their  lives.  It  was  their  savings  and  the  savings 
of  their  families.  It  was,  literally,  a  small  fortune. 

One  of  the  Casino  directors  consulted  with  the  chef  de 
partie.  The  chef  de  partie  turned  apologetically  to  Bond. 

'Excusezmoi,  monsieur.  La  mise?' 
,.  It  was  an  indication  that  Bond  really  must  show  he 
had  the  money  to  coyer  the  bet.  They  knew,  of  course, 
that  he  was  a  very  wealthy  man,  but  after  all,  thirty-two 
millions!  And  it  sometimes  happened  that  desperate 
people  would  bet  without  a  sou  in  the  world  and  cheer- 
fully go  to  prison  if  they  lost. 

'Mes  excuses,  Monsieur  Bond,'  added  the  chef  de 
partie  obsequiously. 

It  was  when  Bond  shovelled  the  great  wad  of  notes 
out  on  to  the  table  and  the  croupier  busied  himself  with 
the  task  of  counting  the  pinned  sheaves  of  ten  thousand 
franc  notes,  the  largest  denomination  issued  in  France, 
that  he  caught  a  swift  exchange  of  glances  between  Le 
Chiffre  and  the  gunman  standing  directly  behind  Bond. 

Immediately  he  felt  something  hard  press  into  the 
base  of  his  spine,  right  into  the  cleft  between  his  two 
buttocks  on  the  padded  chair. 

At  the  same  time  a  thick  voice  speaking  southern 
French  said  softly,  urgently,  just  behind  his  right  ear: 

'This  is  a  gun,  monsieur.  It  is  absolutely  silent.  It  can 
blow  the  base  of  your  spine  off  without  a  sound.  You 
will  appear  to  have  fainted.  I  shall  be  gone.  Withdraw 
your  bet  before  I  count  ten.  If  you  call  for  help  I  shall 
fire.' 

The  voice  Was  confident.  Bond  believed  it.  These 
people  had  shown  they  would  unhesitatingly  go  the 
limit.  The  thick  walking  stick  was  explained.  Bond  knew 
the  type  of  gun.  The  barrel  a  series  of  soft  rubber  baffles 
which  absorbed  the  detonation,  but  allowed  the  passage 
of  the  bullet.  They  had  been  invented  and  used  in  the 


v. 


82 


CASINO  ROYALE 


war  for  assassinations.  Bond  had  tested  them  himself. 
'Un,'  said  the  voice. 

Bond  turned  his  head.  There  was  the  man,  leaning 
forward  close  behind  him,  smiling  broadly  under  his 
black  moustache  as  if  he  were  wishing  Bond  luck,  com- 
pletely secure  in  the  noise  and  the  crowd. 

The  discoloured  teeth  came  together.  'Deux,'  said  the 
grinning  mouth. 

Bond  looked  across.  Le  Chiffre  was  watching  him. 
His  eyes  glittered  back  at  Bond.  His  mouth  was  open, 
and  he  was  breathing  fast.  He  was  waiting,  waiting  for 
Bond's  hand  to  gesture  to  the  croupier,  or  else  for  Bond 
suddenly  to  slump  backwards  in  his  chair,  his  face 
grimacing  with  a  scream. 

'Trois.' 

Bond  looked  over  at  Vesper  and  Felix  Leiter.  They 
were  smiling  and  talking  to  each  other.  The  fools. 
Where  was  Mathis?  Where  were  those  famous  men  of 
his? 

'Quatre.' 

And  the  other  spectators.  This  crowd  of  jabbering 
idiots.  Couldn't  someone  see  what  was  happening?  The 
chef  de  partie,  the  croupier,  the  huissier? 

'Cinq.' 

The  croupier  was  tidying  up  the  pile  of  notes.  The 
chef  de  partie  bowed  smilingly  towards  Bond.  Directly 
the  stake  was  in  order  he  would  announce,  'Le  jeux  est 
fait,'  and  the  gun  would  fire  whether  the  gunman  had 
reached  ten  or  not. 

'Six.' 

Bond  decided.  It  was  a  chance.  He  carefully  moved 
his  hands  to  the  edge  of  the  table,  gripped  it,  edged  his 
buttocks  right  back,  feeling  the  sharp  gun-sight  grind 
into  his  coccyx. 

'Sept.' 

The  chef  de  partie  turned  to  Le  Chiffre  with  his 
eyebrows  lifted,  waiting  for  the  banker's  nod  that  he 
was  ready  to  play. 


THE  DEADLYTUBE 


83 


Suddenly  Bond  heaved  backwards  with  all  his 
strength.  His  momentum  tipped  the  crossbar  of  the 
chair-back  down  so  quickly  that  it  cracked  across  the 
Malacca  tube  and  wrenched  it  from  the  gunman's  hand 
before  he  could  pull  the  trigger. 

Bond  went  head-over-heels  on  to  the  ground  amongst 
the  spectators'  feet,  his  legs  in  the  air.  The  back  of  the 
chair  splintered  with  the  sharp  crack.  There  were  cries 
of  dismay.  The  spectators  cringed  away  and  then, 
reassured,  clustered  back.  Hands  helped  him  to  his  feet 
and  brushed  him  down.  The  huissier  bustled  up  with  the 
chef  de  partie.  At  all  costs  a  scandal  must  be  avoided. 

Bond  held  on  to  the  brass  rail.  He  looked  confused 
and  embarrassed.  He  brushed  his  hand  across  his 
forehead.  'A  momentary  faintness,'  he  said.  'It  is 
nothing — the  excitement,  the  heat. ' 

There  were  expressions  of  sympathy.  Naturally,  with 
this  tremendous  game.  Would  Monsieur  prefer  to  with- 
draw, to  lie  down,  to  go  home?  Should  a  doctor  be 
fetched? 

Bond  shook  his  head.  He  was  perfectly  all  right  now. 
His  excuses  to  the  table.  To  the  banker  also. 

A  new  chair  was  brought  and  he  sat  down.  He  looked 
across  at  Le  Chiffre.  Through  his  relief  at  being  alive, 
he  felt  a  moment  of  triumph  at  what  he  saw— some  fear 
in  the  fat,  pale  face. 

There  was  a  buzz  of  speculation  round  the  table. 
Bond's  neighbours  on  both  sides  of  him  bent  forward 
and  spokefsolicitously  about  the  heat  and  the  lateness  of 
the  hour  and  the  smoke  and  the  lack  of  ain  * 
V  Bond  replied  politely.  He  turned  to  examine  the 
crowd  behind  him.  There  was  no  trace  of  the  gunman, 
but  the  huissier  was  looking  for  someone  to  claim  the 
Malacca  stick.  It  seemed  undamaged.  But  it  no  longer 
carried  a  rubber  tip.  Bond  beckoned  to  him. 

'If  you  will  give  it  to  that  gentleman  over  there' — he 
indicated  Felix  Leiter— 'he  will  return  it.  It  belongs  to 
an  acquaintance  of  his.' 


84 


CASINO  ROYALE 


The  huissier  bowed. 

Bond  grimly  reflected  that  a  short  examination  would 
reveal  to  Leiter  why  he  had  made  such  an  embarrassing 
public  display  of  himself. 

He  turned  back  to  the  table  and  tapped  the  green 
cloth  in  front  of  him  to  show  that  he  was  ready. 


CHAPTER  13 


'A  Whisper  of  Love, 
A  Whisper  of  Hate' 


'La  Partie  continue,'  announced  the  chef  im- 
pressively, 'tin  banco  de  trente-deux  millions. '  ' 

The  spectators  craned  forward.  Le  Chiffre  hit  the 
shoe  with  a  flat-handed  slap  that  made  it  rattle.  As  an 
afterthought  he  took  out  his  benzedrine  inhaler  and 
sucked  the  vapour  up  his  nose.  '■<•"■• 

'Filthy  brute,'  said  Mrs.  Du  Pont  on  Bond's  left. 

Bond's  mind  was  clear  again.  By  a  miracle  he  had  sur- 
vived a  devastating  wound.  He  could  feel  his  armpits 
still  wet  with  the  fear  of  it.  But  the  success  of  his  gambit 
with  the  chair  had  wiped  out  all  memories  of  the  dread- 
ful valley  of  defeat  through  which  he  had  just  passed. 

He  had  made  a  fool  of  himself.  The  game  had  been 
interrupted  for  at  least  ten  minutes,  a  delay  unheard  of  • 
in  a  respectable  casino,  but  now  cards  were  waiting  for 
him  in  the  shoe.  They  must  not  fail  him.  He  felt  his 
heart  lift  at  the  prospect  of  what  was  to  come, 

It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Apart  from  the 
thick  crowd  round  the  big  game,  play  was  still  going  on 

85 


86 


CASINO  ROYALE 


at  three  of  the  chemin-de-fer  games  and  at  the  same 
number  of  roulette  tables. 

In  the  silence  round  his  own  table,  Bond  suddenly 
heard  a  distant  croupier  intone:  'Neuf .  Le  rouge  gagne, 
impair  et  manque.' 

Was  this  an  omen  for  him  or  for  Le  Chiffre? 

The  two  cards  slithered  towards  him  across  the  green 
sea. 

Like  an  octopus  under  a  rock,  Le  Chiffre  watched 
him  from  the  other  side  of  the  table. 

Bond  reached  out  a  steady  right  hand  and  drew  the 
cards  towards  him.  Would  it  be  the  lift  of  the  heart 
which  a  nine  brings,  or  an  eight  brings? 

He  fanned  the  two  cards  under  the  curtain  of  his 
hand.  The.  muscles  of  his  jaw  rippled  as  he  clenched  his 
teeth.  His  whole  body  stiffened  in  a  reflex  of  self- 
defence. 

He  had  two  queens,  two  red  queens. 

They  looked  rougishly  back  at  him  from  the  shadows. 
They  were  the  worst.  They  were  nothing.  Zero.  Bac- 
carat. 

'A  card, '  said  Bond,  fighting  to  keep  hopelessness  out 
of  his  voice.  He  felt  Le  Chiffre' s  eyes  boring  into  his 
brain. 

The  banker  slowly  turned  his  own  two  cards  face  up. 

He  had  a  count  of  three — a  king  and  a  black  three. 

Bond  softly  exhaled  a  cloud  of  tobacco  smoke.  He 
still  had  a  chance.  Now  he  was  really  faced  with  the 
moment  of  truth.  Le  Chiffre  slapped  the  shoe,  slipped 
out  a  card,  Bond's  card,  Bond's  fate,  and  slowly  turned 
it  face  up. 

It  was  a  nine,  a  wonderful  nine  of  hearts — the  card 
known  in  gipsy  magic  as  'a  whisper  of  love,  a  whisper  of 
hate,'  the  card  that  meant  almost  certain  victory  for 
Bond. 

The  croupier  slipped  it  delicately  across.  To 
Le  Chiffre  it  meant  nothing.  Bond  might  have  had  a 
one,  in  which  case  he  now  had  ten  points,  or  nothing,  or 


'A  WHISPER  OF  LOVE,  A  WHISPER  OF  HATE'  87 

baccarat,  as  it  is  called.  Or  he  might  have  had  a  two, 
three,  four,  or  even  five.  In  which  case,  with  nine,  his 
maximum  count  would  be  four. 

Holding  a  three  and  giving  a  nine  is  one  of  the  moot 
situations  at  the  game.  The  odds  are  so  nearly  divided 
between  to  draw  or  not  to  draw.  Bond  let  the  banker 
sweat  it  out.  Since  his  nine  could  only  be  equalled  by  the 
banker  drawing  a  six,  he  would  normally  have  shown 
his  count  if  it  had  been  a  friendly  game. 

Bond's  cards  lay  on  the  table  before  him,  the  two  im- 
personal pale  pink-patterned  backs  and  the  faced  nine 
of  hearts.  To  Le  Chiffre  the  nine  might  be  telling  the  > 
truth  or  many  variations  of  lies. 

The  whole  secret  lay  in  the  reverse  of  the  two  pink 
backs  where  the  pair  of  queens  kissed  the  green  cloth. 

The  sweat  was  running  down  either  side  of  the 
banker's  beaky  nose.  His  thick  tongue  came  out  slyly 
and  licked  a  drop  out  of  the  corner  of  his  red  gash  of  a 
mouth.  He  looked  at  Bond's  cards,  and  then  at  his  own, 
and  then  back  at  Bond's. 

Then  his  whole  body  shrugged  and  he  slipped  out  a 
card  for  himself  from  the  lisping  shoe. 

He  faced  it.  The  table  craned.  It  was  a  wonderful 
card,  a  five. 

'Huit  a  la  banque,'  said  the  croupier.  > 

As  Bond  sat  silent,  Le  Chiffre  suddenly  grinned 
wolfishly.  He  must  have  won.  i 

The  croupier's  spatula  reached  almost  apologetically 
across  the  table.  There  was  not  a  man  at  the  table  who 
did  not  believe  Bond  was  defeated. 

The  spatula  flicked  the  two  pink  cards  over  on  their 
backs.  The  gay  red  queens  smiled  up  at  the  lights. 

'Etleneuf.' 

A  great  gasp  went  up  round  the  table,  and  then  a  hub- 
bub of  talk. 

Bond's  eyes  were  on  Le  Chiffre.  The  big  man  fell 
back  in  his  chair  as  if  slugged  above  the  heart.  His 
mouth  opened  and  shut  once  or  twice  in  protest,  and 


88 


CASINO  ROYALE 


his  right  hand  felt  at  his  throat.  Then  he  rocked  back. 
His  lips  were  grey. 

As  the  huge  stack  of  plaques  was  shunted  across  the 
table  to  Bond  the  banker  reached  into  an  inner  pocket 
of  his  jacket  and  threw  a  wad  of  notes  on  to  the  table. 

The  croupier  riffled  through  them. 

'Un  banco  de  dix  millions,'  he  announced.  He 
slapped  down  their  equivalent  in  ten  plaques  of  a 
million  each. 

This  is  the  kill,  thought  Bond.  This  man  has  reached 
the  point  of  no  return.  This  is  the  last  of  his  capital.  He 
has  come  to  where  I  stood  an  hour  ago,  and  he  is 
making  the  last  gesture  that  I  made.  But  if  this  man 
loses  there  is  no  one  to  come  to  his  aid,  no  miracle  to 
help  him. 

Bond  sat  back  arid  lit  a  cigarette.  On  a  small  table 
beside  him  half  a  bottle  of  Clicquot  and  a  glass  had 
materialized.  Without  asking  who  the  benefactor  was, 
Bond  filled  the  glass  to  the  brim  and  drank  it  down  in 
two  long  draughts. 

Then  he  leant  back  with  his  arms  curled  forward  on 
the  table  in  front  of  him  like  the  arms  of  a  wrestler 
seeking  a  hold  at  the  opening  of  a  bout  of  ju-jitsu. 

The  players  on  his  left  remained  silent. 

'Banco,'  he  said,  speaking  straight  at  Le  Chiffre. 

Once  more  the  two  cards  were  borne  over  to  him,  and 
this  time  the  croupier  slipped  them  into  the  green  lagoon 
between  the  outstretched  arms. 

Bond  curled  his  right  hand  in,  glanced  briefly  down 
and  flipped  the  cards  face  up  into  the  middle  of  the 
table. 

'  Le  neuf , '  said  the  croupier. 

Le  Chiffre  was  gazing  down  at  his  own  two  black 
kings. 

'Et  le  baccarat,'  and  the  croupier  eased  across  the 
table  the  fat  tide  of  plaques. 

Le  Chiffre  watched  them  go  to  join  the  serried 
millions  in  the  shadow  of  Bond's  left  arm;  then  he  stood 


'A  WHISPER  OF  LOVE,  A  WHISPER  OF  HATE' 


89 


up  slowly,  and  without  a  word  he  brushed  past  the 
players  to  the  break  in  the  rail.  He  unhooked  the  velvet- 
covered  chain  and  let  it  fall.  The  spectators  opened  a 
way  for  him.  They  looked  at  him  curiously  and  rather 
fearfully  as  if  he  carried  the  smell  of  death  on  him.  Then 
he  vanished  from  Bond's  sight. 

Bond  stood  up.  He  took  a  hundred-mille  plaque  from 
the  stacks  beside  him  and  slipped  it  across  the  table  to 
the  chef  de  partie.  He  cut  short  the  effusive  thanks  and 
asked  the  croupier  to  have  his  winnings  carried  to  the 
caisse.  The  other  players  were  leaving  their  seats.  With 
no  banker,  there  could  be  no  game,  and  by  now  it  was 
half-past  two.  He  exchanged  some  pleasant  words  with 
his  neighbours  to  right  and  left  and  then  ducked  under 
the  rail  to  where  Vesper  and  Felix  Leiter  were  waiting 
for  him. 

Together  they  walked  over  to  the  caisse.  Bond  was 
invited  to  come  into  the  private  office  of  the  Casino 
directors.  On  the  desk  lay  his  huge  pile  of  chips.  He 
added  the  contents  of  his  pockets  to  it. 

In  all  there  was  over  seventy  million  francs. 

Bond  took  Felix  Leiter's  money  in  notes  and  took  a 
cheque  to  cash  on  the  Credit  Lyonnais  for  the  remaining 
forty-odd  million.  He  was  congratulated  warmly  on  his 
winnings.  The  directors  hoped  that  he  would  be  playing 
again  that  evening. 

Bond  gave  an  evasive  reply.  He  walked  over  to  the  bar 
and  handed  Leiter's  money  to  him.  For  a  few  minutes 
they  discussed  the  game  over  a  bottle  of  champagne. 
Leiter  took  a  .45  bullet  out  of  his  pocket  and  placed  it 
on  the  table. 

'I  gave  the  gun  to  Mathis,'  he  said.  'He's  taken  it 
away.  He  Was  as  puzzled  as  we  were  by  the  spill  you 
took.  He  was  standing  at  the  back  of  the  crowd  with  one 
of  his  men  when  it  happened.  The  gunman  got  away 
without  difficulty.  You  can  imagine  how  they  kicked 
themselves  when  they  saw  the  gun.  Mathis  gave  me  this 
bullet  to  show  you  what  you  escaped.  The  nose  had  been 


90 


CASINO  ROYALE 


cut  with  a  dum-dum  cross.  You'd  have  been  in  a  terrible 
mess.  But  they  can't  tie  it  on  to  Le  Chiffre.  The  man 
came  in  alone.  They've  got  the  form  he  filled  up  to  get 
his  entrance  card.  Of  course,  it'll  all  be  phony.  He  got 
permission  to  bring  the  stick  in  with  him.  He  had  a  cer- 
tificate for  a  war-wound  pension.  These  people  certainly 
get  themselves  well  organized.  They've  got  his  prints 
and  they're  on  the  Belinograph  to  Paris,  so  we  may  hear 
more  about  him  in  the  morning.'  Felix  Leiter  tapped  out 
another  cigarette.  'Anyway,  all's  well  that  ends  well. 
You  certainly  took  Le  Chiffre  for  a  ride  at  the  end, 
though  we  had  some  bad  moments.  I  expect  you  did 
too.' 

Bond  smiled.  'That  envelope  was  the  most  wonderful 
thing  that  ever  happened  to  me.  I  thought  I  was  really 
finished.  It  wasn't  at  all  a  pleasant  feeling.  Talk  about  a 
friend  in  need.  One  day  I'll  try  and  return  the  com- 
pliment.' 

He  rose.  'I'll  just  go  over  to  the  hotel  and  put  this 
away,'  he  said,  tapping  his  pocket.  'I  don't  like  wan- 
dering around  with  Le  Chiffre' s  death  warrant  on  me. 
He  might  get  ideas.  Then  I'd  like  to  celebrate  a  bit. 
What  do  you  think?' 

He  turned  to  Vesper.  She  had  hardly  said  a  word  since 
the  end  of  the  game. 

'Shall  we  have  a  glass  of  champagne  in  the  night  club 
before  we  go  to  bed?  It's  called  the  Roi  Galant.  You  get 
to  it  through  the  public  rooms.  It  looks  quite  cheerful. ' 

T  think  I'd  love  to,'  said  Vesper.  'I'll  tidy  up  while 
you  put  your  winnings  away.  I'll  meet  you  in  the  en- 
trance hall.' 

'What  about  you,  Felix?'  Bond  hoped  he  could  be 
alone  with  Vesper. 

Leiter  looked  at  him  and  read  his  mind. 

'I'd  rather  take  a  little  rest  before  breakfast,'  he  said. 
'It's  been  quite  a  day,  and  I  expect  Paris  will  want  me  to 
do  a  bit  of  mopping-up  tomorrow.  There  are  several 
loose  ends  you  won't  have  to  worry  about.  I  shall.  I'll 


'A  WHISPER  OF  LOVE,  A  WHISPER  OF  HATE'  91 

walk  over  to  the  hotel  with  you.  Might  as  well  convoy 
the  treasure  ship  right  into  port.' 

They  strolled  over  through  the  shadows  cast  hy  the 
full  moon.  Both  had  their  hands  on  their  guns.  It  was 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  but  there  were  several 
people  about  and  the  courtyard  of  the  Casino  was  still 
lined  with  motorcars. 

The  short  walk  was  uneventful. 

At  the  hotel,  Leiter  insisted  on  accompanying  Bond 
to  his  room.  It  was  as  Bond  had  left  it  six  hours  before. 

'No  reception  committee,'  observed  Leiter,  'but  I 
wouldn't  put  it  past  them  to  try  a  last  throw.  Do  you 
think  I  ought  to  stay  up  and  keep  you  two  company? ' 

'You  get  your  sleep,'  said  Bond.  'Don't  worry  about 
us.  They  won't  be  interested  in  me  without  the  money 
and  I've  got  an  idea  for  looking  after  that.  Thanks  for 
all  you've  done.  I  hope  we  get  on  a  job  again  one  day. ' 

'Suits  me,'  said  Leiter,  'so  long  as  you  can  draw  a 
nine  when  it's  needed — and  bring  Vesper  along  with 
you, '  he  added  dryly.  He  went  out  and  closed  the  door. 

Bond  turned  back  to  the  friendliness  of  his  room. 

After  the  crowded  arena  of  the  big  table  and  the  ner- 
vous strain  of  the  three  hours'  play,  he  was  glad  to  be 
alone  for  a  moment  and  to  be  welcomed  by  his  pyjamas 
on  the  bed  and  his  hairbrushes  on  the  dressing-table.  He 
went  into  the  bathroom  and  dashed  cold  water  over  his 
face  and  gargled  with  a  sharp  mouthwash.  He  felt  the 
bruises  on  the  back  of  his  head  and  on  his  right 
shoulder.  He  reflected  cheerfully  how  narrowly  he  had 
twice  that  day  escaped  being  murdered.  Would  he  have 
to  sit  up  all  that  night  and  wait  for  them  to  come  again, 
or  was  Le  Chiffre  even  now  on  his  way  to  Le  Havre  or 
Bordeaux  to  pick  up  a  boat  for  some  corner  of  the  world 
where  he  could  escape  the  eyes  and  guns  of  SMERSH? 

Bond  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Sufficient  unto  that  day 
had  been  its  evil.  He  gazed  for  a  moment  into  the  mirror 
and  wondered  about  Vesper's  morals.  He  wanted  her 
cold  and  arrogant  body.  He  wanted  to  see  tears  and 


92 


CASINO  ROYALE 


desire  in  her  remote  blue  eyes  and  to  take  the  ropes  of 
her  black  hair  in  his  hands  and  bend.her  long  body  back 
under  his.  Bond's  eyes  narrowed,  and  his  face  in  the 
mirror  looked  back  at  him  with  hunger. 

He  turned  away  and  took  out  of  his  pocket  the  cheque 
for  forty  million  francs.  He  folded  this  very  small.  Then 
he  opened  the  door  and  looked  up  and  down  the 
corridor.  He  left  the  door  wide  open  and  with  his  ears 
cocked  for  footsteps  or  the  sound  of  the  lift,  he  set  to 
work  with  a  small  screwdriver. 

Five  minutes  later  he  gave  a  last-minute  survey  to  his 
handiwork,  put  some  fresh  cigarettes  in  his  case,  closed 
and  locked  the  door,  and  went  off  down  the  corridor 
and  across  the  hall  and  out  into  the  moonlight. 


CHAPTER  14 

'La  Vie  en  Rose?' 


The  entrance  to  the  Roi  Galant  was  a  seven-foot 
golden  picture-frame  which  had  once,  perhaps,  enclosed 
the  vast  portrait  of  a  noble  European.  It  was  in  a 
discreet  corner  of  the  'kitchen' — the  public  roulette  and 
boule  room,  where  several  tables  were  still  busy.  As 
Bond  took  Vesper's  arm  and  led  her  over  the  gilded 
step,  he  fought  back  a  hankering  to  borrow  some  money 
from  the  caisse  and  plaster  maximums  over  the  nearest 
table.  But  he  knew  that  this  would  be  a  brash  and  cheap 
gesture  'pour  Spater  la  bourgeoisie. '  Whether  he  won  or 
lost,  it  would  be  a  kick  in  the  teeth  to  the  luck  which  had 
been  given  him. 

The  night  club  was  small  and  dark,  lit  only  by  candles 
in  gilded  candelabra  whose  warm  light  was  repeated  in 
wall  mirrors  set  in  more  gold  picture-frames.  The  walls 
were  covered  in  dark  red  satin,  and  the  chairs  and 
banquettes  in  matching  red  plush.  In  the  far  corner,  a 
trio,  consisting  of  a  piano,  an  electric  guitar,  and 
drums,  was  playing  'La  Vie  en  Rose'  with  muted  sweet- 


93 


94 


CASINO  ROYALE 


ness.  Seduction  dripped  on  the  quietly  throbbing  air.  It 
seemed  to  Bond  that  every  couple  must  be  touching  with 
passion  under  the  tables. 

They  were  given  a  corner  table  near  the  door.  Bond 
ordered  a  bottle  of  Veuve  Clicquot  and  scrambled  eggs 
and  bacon. 

They  sat  for  a  time  listening  to  the  music,  and  then 
Bond  turned  to  Vesper:  'It's  wonderful  sitting  here  with 
you  and  knowing  the  job's  finished.  It's  a  lovely  end  to 
the  day — the  prize-giving.' 

He  expected  her  to  smile.  She  said,  'Yes,  isn't  it?'  in  a 
rather  brittle  voice.  She  seemed  to  be  listening  carefully 
to  the  music.  One  elbow  rested  on  the  table,  and  her 
hand  supported  her  chin,  but  on  the  back  of  her  hand 
and  not  on  the  palm;  and  Bond  noticed  that  her 
knuckles  showed  white  as  if  her  fist  was  tightly 
clenched. 

Between  the  thumb  and  first  two  fingers  of  her  right 
hand  she  held  one  of  Bond's  cigarettes,  as  an  artist 
holds  a  crayon;  and  though  she  smoked  with  composure 
she  tapped  the  cigarette  occasionally  into  an  ashtray 
when  the  cigarette  had  no  ash. 

Bond  noticed  these  small  things  because  he  felt  in- 
tensely aware  of  her  and  because  he  wanted  to  draw  her 
into  his  own  feeling  of  warmth  and  relaxed  sensuality. 
But  he  accepted  her  reserve.  He  thought  it  came  from  a 
desire  to  protect  herself  from  him,  or  else  it  was  her 
reaction  to  his  coolness  to  her  earlier  in  the  evening,  his 
deliberate  coolness,  which  he  knew  had  been  taken  as  a 
rebuff. 

He  was  patient.  He  drank  champagne  and  talked  a 
little  about  the  happenings  of  the  day  and  about  the  per- 
sonalities of  Mathis  and  Leiter  and  about  the  possible 
consequences  for  Le  Chiffre.  He  was  discreet,  and  he 
only  talked  about  the  aspects  of  the  case  on  which  she 
must  have  been  briefed  by  London. 

She  answered  perfunctorily'.  She  said  that,  of  course, 
they  had  picked  out  the  two  gunmen,  but  had  thought 


'LA  VIE  EN  ROSE?' 


95 


nothing  of  it  when  the  man  with  the  stick  had  gone  to 
stand  behind  Bond's  chair.  They  could  not  believe  that 
anything  would  be  attempted  in  the  Casino  itself.  Di- 
rectly Bond  and  Leiter  had  left  to  walk  over  to  the  hotel, 
she  had  telephoned  Paris  and  told  M.'s  representative  of 
the  result  of  the  game.  She  had  had  to  speak  guardedly, 
and  the  agent  had  rung  off  without  comment.  She  had 
been  told  to  do  this  whatever  the  result.  M.  had  asked 
for  the  information  to  be  passed  on  to  him  personally  at 
any  time  of  the  day  or  night. 

This  was  all  she  said.  She  sipped  at  her  champagne 
and  rarely  glanced  at  Bond.  She  didn't  smile.  Bond  felt 
frustrated.  He  drank  a  lot  of  champagne  and  ordered 
another  bottle.  The  scrambled  eggs  came,  and  they  ate 
in  silence. 

At  four  o'clock  Bond  was  about  to  call  for  the  bill 
when  the  maltre  d'hStel  appeared  at  their  table  and 
inquired  for  Miss  Lynd.  He  handed  her  a  note  which  she 
took  and  read  hastily. 

'Oh,  it's  only  Mathis,'  she  said.  'He  says  would  T 
come  to  the  entrance  hall.  He's  got  a  message  for  you. 
Perhaps  he's  not  in  evening  clothes  or  something.  I 
Won't  be  a  minute.  Then  perhaps  we  could  go  home.' 

She  gave  him  a  strained  smile.  'I'm  afraid  I  don't  feel 
very  good  company  this  evening.  It's  been  rather  a 
nerve-racking  day,  I'm  so  sorry.' 

Bond  made  a  perfunctory  reply  and  rose,  pushing 
back  the  table.  'I'll  get  the  bill,'  he  said,  and  watched 
her  take  the  few  steps  to  the  entrance. 

He  sat  down  and  lit  a  cigarette.  He  felt  flat.  He  sud- 
denly realized  that  he  was  tired.  The  stuffiness  of  the 
room  hit  him  as  it  had  hit  him  in  the  Casino  in  the  early 
hours  of  the  previous  day.  He  called  for  the  bill  and 
took  a  last  mouthful  of  champagne.  It  tasted  bitter,  as 
the  first  glass  too  many  always  does.  He  would  have 
liked  to  see  Mathis' s  cheerful  face  and  hear  his  news, 
perhaps  even  a  word  of  congratulation. 

Suddenly  the  note  to  Vesper  seemed  odd  to  him.  It 


96 


CASINO  ROYALE 


was  not  the  way  Mathis  would  do  things.  He  would  have 
asked  them  both  to  join  him  at  the  bar  of  the  Casino,  or 
he  would  have  joined  them  in  the  night  club,  whatever 
his  clothes.  They  would  have  laughed  together,  and 
Mathis  would  have  been  excited.  He  had  much  to  tell 
Bond,  more  than  Bond  had  to  tell  him:  the  arrest  of  the 
Bulgarian,  who  had  probably  talked  some  more;  the 
chase  after  the  man  with  the  stick;  Le  Chiffre's 
movements  when  he  left  the  Casino. 

Bond  shook  himself.  He  hastily  paid  the  bill,  not 
waiting  for  the  change.  He  pushed  back  his  table  and 
walked  quickly  through  the  entrance  without 
acknowledging  the  good-nights  of  the  maltre  d'hdtel 
and  the  doorman. 

He  hurried  through  the  gaming-room  and  looked 
carefully  up  and  down  the  long  entrance  hall.  He  cursed 
and  quickened  his  step.  There  were  only  one  or  two  of- 
ficials and  two  or  three  men  and  women  in  evening 
clothes  getting  their  things  at  the  vestiaire. 

No  Vesper.  No  Mathis. 

He  was  almost  running.  He  got  to  the  entrance  and 
looked  along  the  steps  to  the  left  and  right  down  and 
amongst  the  few  remaining  cars. 

The  commissionaire  came  towards  him. 

'A  taxi,  monsieur?'  ;■ 

Bond  waved  him  aside  and  started  down  the  steps,  his 
eyes  staring  into  the  shadows,  the  night  air  cold  on  his 
sweating  temples. 

He  was  halfway  down  when  he  heard  a  faint  cry,  then 
the  slam  of  a  door  away  to  the  right.  With  a  harsh  growl 
and  stutter  from  the  exhaust  a  beetle-browed  Citroen 
shot  out  of  the  shadows  into  the  light  of  the  moon,  its 
front- wheel  drive  dry-skidding  through  the  loose 
pebbles  of  the  forecourt. 

Its  tail  rocked  on  its  soft  springs  as  if  a  violent 
struggle  was  taking  place  on  the  back  seat. 

With  a  snarl  it  raced  out  to  the  wide  entrance  gate  in  a 
spray  of  gravel.  A  small  black- object  shot  out  of  an 


'LA  VIE  EN  ROSE?' 


97 


open  rear  window  and  thudded  into  a  flower-bed.  There 
was  a  scream  of  tortured  rubber  as  the  tyres  caught  the 
boulevard  in  a  harsh  left-handed  turn,  the  deafening 
echo  of  a  Citroen' s  exhaust  in  second  gear,  a  crash  into 
top,  then  a  swiftly  diminishing  crackle  as  the  car  hared 
off  between  the  shops  on  the  main  street  towards  the 
coast-road. 

Bond  knew  he  would  find  Vesper's  evening  bag 
among  the  flowers. 

He  ran  back  with  it  across  the  gravel  to  the  brightly  lit 
steps  and  scrabbled  through  its  contents  while  the  com- 
missionaire hovered  round  him. 

The  crumpled  note  was  there  amongst  the  usual 
feminine  baggage: 

'Can  you  come  out  to  the  entrance  hall  for  a 
moment?  I  have  news  for  your  companion. 

Rene  Mathis.' 


CHAPTER  15 


Black  Hare  and  Grey  Hound 


It  was  the  crudest  possible  forgery. 

Bond  leapt  for  the  Bentley,  blessing  the  impulse 
,  which  had  made  him  drive  it  over  after  dinner.  With  the 
choke  full  out  the  engine  answered  at  once  to  the  starter, 
and  the  roar  drowned  the  faltering  words  of  the  com- 
missionaire who  jumped  aside  as  the  rear  wheels 
whipped  gravel  at  his  piped  trouser-legs. 

As  the  car  rocked  to  the  left  outside  the  gate,  Bond 
ruefully  longed  for  the  front-wheel  drive  and  low  chassis 
of  the  Citroen.  Then  he  went  fast  through  the  gears  and 
settled  himself  for  the  pursuit,  briefly  savouring  the 
echo  of  the  huge  exhaust  as  it  came  back  at  him  from 
either  side  of  the  short  main  street  through  the  town. 

Soon  he  was  out  on  the  coast-road,  a  broad  highway 
through  the  sand-dunes  which  he  knew  from  his  morn- 
ing's drive  had  an  excellent  surface  and  was  well  cat' s- 
eyed  on  the  bends.  He  pushed  the  revs  up  and  up, 
hurrying  the  car  to  eighty  then  to .  ninety,  his  huge 
Marchai  headlights  boring  a  safe  white  tunnel,  nearly 


98 


BLACK  HARE AND GREY  HOUND  99 

half  a  mile  long,  between  the  walls  of  the  night. 

He  knew  the  Citroen  must  have  come  this  way.  He 
had  heard  the  exhaust  penetrate  beyond  the  town,  and  a 
little  dust  still  hung  on  the  bends.  He  hoped  soon  to  see 
the  distant  shaft  of  its  headlights.  The  night  was  still  and 
clear.  Only  out  at  sea  there  must  be  a  light  summer  mist, 
for  at  intervals  he  could  hear  the  foghorns  lowing  like 
iron  cattle  down  the  coast. 

As  he  drove,  whipping  the  car  faster  and  faster 
through  the  night,  with  the  other  half  of  his  mind  he 
cursed  Vesper,  and  M.  for  having  sent  her  on  the  job. 

This  was  just  what  he  had  been  afraid  of.  These 
blithering  women  who  thought  they  could  do  a  man's 
work.  Why  the  hell  couldn't  they  stay  at  home  and  mind  v 
their  pots  and  pans  and  stick  to  their  frocks  and  gossip 
and  leave  men's  work  to  the  men?  And  now  for  this  to 
happen  to  him,  just  when  the  job  had  come  off  so 
beautifully:  for  Vesper  to  fall  for  an  old  trick  like  that 
and  get  herself  snatched  and  probably  held  to  ransom 
like  some  bloody  heroine  in  a  strip  cartoon.  The  silly 
bitch. 

-Bond  boiled  at  the  thought  of  the  fix  he  was  in. 
Of  course.  The  idea  was  a  straight  swap.  The  girl 
against  his  cheque  for  forty  million.  Well,  he  wouldn't 
play:  wouldn't  think  of  playing.  She  was  in  the  Service 
and  knew  what  she  was  up  against.  He  wouldn't  even 
ask  M.  This  job  was  more  important  than  her.  It  was 
just  too  bad.  She  was  a  fine  girl,  but  he  wasn't  going  to 
fall  for  this  childish  trick.  No  dice.  He  would  try  and 
catch  the  Citroen  and  shoot  it  out  with  them;  and  if  she 
got  shot  in  the  process  that  was  too  bad  too.  He  would 
have  done  his  stuff — tried  to  rescue  her  before  they  got 
her  off  to  some  hide-out — but  if  he  didn't  catch  up  with 
them  he  would  get  back  to  his  hotel  and  go  to  sleep  and 
say  no  more  about  it.  The  next  morning  he  would  ask 
Mathis  what  had  happened  to  her  and  show  him  the 
note.  If  Le  Chiffre  put  the  touch  on  Bond  for  the  money 
in  exchange  for  the  girl,  Bond  would  do  nothing  and  tell 


100 


CASINO  ROYALE 


no  one.  The  girl  would  just  have  to  take  it.  If  the  com- 
missionaire came  along  with  the  story  of  what  he  had 
seen,  Bond  would  bluff  it  out  by  saying  he  had  had  a 
drunken  row  with  the  girl. 

Bond's  mind  raged  furiously  on  with  the  problem  as 
he  flung  the  great  car  down  the  coast-road, 
automatically  taking  the  curves  and  watching  out  for 
carts  or  cyclists  on  their  way  to  Royale.  On  straight 
stretches  the  Amherst  Villiers  supercharger  dug  spurs 
into  the  Bentley's  twenty-five  horses,  and  the  engine 
sent  a  high-pitched  scream  of  pain  into  the  night.  Then 
the  revolutions  mounted  until  he  was  past  110  and  on  to 
the  120  m. p. h.  mark  on  the  speedometer. 

He  knew  he  must  be  gaining  fast.  Loaded  as  she  was, 
the  Citroen  could  hardly  better  eighty  even  on  this  road. 
On  an  impulse  he  slowed  down  to  seventy,  turned  on  his 
foglights,  and  dowsed  the  twin-Marchals.  Sure  enough, 
without  the  blinding  curtain  of  his  own  lights,  he  could 
see  the  glow  of  another  car  a  mile  or  two  down  the 
coast. 

He  felt  under  the  dashboard  and  from  a  concealed 
holster  took  out  a  long- barrelled  Colt  Army  Special  .45 
and  laid  it  on  the  seat  beside  him.  With  this,  if  he  was 
lucky  with  the  surface  of  the  road,  he  could  hope  to  get 
their  tyres  or  their  petrol  tank  at  anything  up  to  a  hun- 
dred yards. 

Then  he  switched  on  the  big  lights  again  and  screamed 
off  in  pursuit.  He  felt  calm  and  at  ease.  The  problem  of 
Vesper's  life  was  a  problem  no  longer.  His  face  in  the 
blue  light  from  the  dashboard  was  grim  but  serene. 

Ahead  in  the  Citroen  there  were  three  men  and  the 
girl. 

Le  Chiffre  was  driving,  his  big  fluid  body  hunched 
forward,  his  hands  light  and  delicate  on  the  wheel. 
Beside  him  sat  the  squat  man  who  had  carried  the  stick 
in  the  Casino.  In  his  left  hand  he  grasped  a  thick  lever 
which  protruded  beside  him  almost  level  with  the  floor. 


BLACK  HARE  AND  GREY  HOUND 


101 


It  might  have  been;a  lever  to  adjust  the  driving-seat. 

In  the  back  seat  was  the  tall  thin  gunman.  He  lay  back, 
relaxed,  gazing  at  the  ceiling,  apparently  uninterested  in 
the  wild  speed  of  the  car.  His  right  hand  lay  caressingly 
on  Vesper's  left  thigh  which  stretched  out  naked  beside 
him.  '■ 

Apart  from  her  legs,  which  were  naked  to  the  hips. 
Vesper  was  only  a  parcel.  Her  long  black  velvet  skirt 
had  been  lifted  over  her  arms  and  head  and  tied  above 
her  head  with  a  piece  of  rope.  Where  her  face  was,  a 
small  gap  had  been  torn  in  the  velvet  so  that  she  could 
breathe.  She  was  not  bound  in  any  other  way,  and  she 
lay  quiet,  her  body  moving  sluggishly  with  the  swaying 
of  the  car. 

Le  Chiffre  was  concentrating  half  on  the  road  ahead 
and  half  on  the  onrushing- glare  of  Bond's  headlights  in 
the  driving  mirror.  He  seemed  undisturbed  when  not 
more  than  a  mile  separated  the  hare  from  the  hounds,' 
and  he  even  brought  the  car  down  from  eighty  to  sixty 
miles  an  hour.  Now,  as  he  swept  round  a  bend  he  slowed 
down  still  further.  A  few  hundred  yards  ahead  a 
Michelin  post  showed  where  a  small  parochial  road 
,  crossed  with  the  highway. 

'Attention,'  he  said  sharply  to  the  man  beside  him. 

The  man's  hand  tightened  on  the  lever. 

A  hundred  yards  from  the  crossroads  he  slowed  to 
thirty.  In  the  mirror  Bond's  great  headlights  were 
lighting  up  the  bend.  j. 

Le  Chiffre  seemed  to  make  up  his  mind. 

'Allez.' 

The  man  beside  him  pulled  the  lever  sharply  upwards. 
The  boot  at  the  back  of  the  car  yawned  open  like  a 
whale's  mouth.  There  was  a  tinkling  clatter  on  the  road 
and  then  a  rhythmic  jangling  as  if  the  car  was  towing 
lengths  of  chain  behind  it. 

'Coupez.' 

The  man  depressed  the  lever  sharply  and  the  jangling 
stopped  with  a  final  clatter.  ( 


102 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Le  Chiffre  glanced  again  in  the  mirror.  Bond's  car 
was  just  entering  the  bend.  Le  Chiffre  made  a  racing 
change  and  threw  the  Citroen  left-handed  down  the 
narrow  side-road,  at  the  same  time  dowsing  his  lights. 

He  stopped  the  car  with  a  jerk,  and  all  three  men  got 
swiftly  out  and  doubled  back  under  cover  of  a  low 
hedge  to  the  crossroads,  now  fiercely  illuminated  by  the 
lights  of  the  Bentley.  Each  of  them  carried  a  revolver, 
and  the  thin  man  also  had  what  looked  like  a  large  egg 
in  his  right  hand. 

The  Bentley  screamed  down  towards  them  like  an  ex- 
press train. 


CHAPTER  16 

The  Crawling  of  the  Skin 


As  Bond  hurtled  round  the  bend,  caressing  the 
great  car  against  the  camber  with  an  easy  sway  of  body 
and  hands,  he  was  working  out  his  plan  of  action  when 
the  distance  between  the  two  cars  should  narrow  still 
further.  He  imagined  that  the  enemy  driver  would  try  to 
dodge  off  into  a  side-road  if  he  got  the  chance.  So  when 
he  had  got  found  the  bend  and  saw  no  lights  ahead,  it 
was  a  normal  reflex  to  ease  up  on  the  accelerator  and, 
when  he  saw  the  Michelin  post,  to  prepare  to  brake. 

He  was  only  doing  about  sixty  as  he  approached  the 
black  patch  across  the  right-hand  crown  of  the  road 
which  he  assumed  to  be  the  shadow  cast  by  a  wayside 
tree.  Even  so,  there  was  no  time  to  save  himself.  There 
was  suddenly  a  small  carpet  of  glinting  steel  spikes  right 
under  his  off-side  wing.  Then  he  was  on  top  of  it. 

Bond  automatically  slammed  the  brakes  full  on  and 
braced  all  his  sinews  against  the  wheel  to  correct  the 
inevitable  sharp  slew  to  the  left,  but  he  only  kept  control 
for  a  split  second.  As  the  rubber  was  flayed  from  his 


103 


104 


CASINO  ROYALE 


off-side  wheels  and  the  rims  for  an  instant  tore  up  the 
tarmac,  the  heavy  car  whirled  across  the  road  in  a 
tearing  dry  skid,  slammed  the  left  bank  with  a  crash  that 
knocked  Bond  out  of  the  driving  seat  on  to  the  floor; 
and  then,  facing  back  up  the  road,  it  reared  slowly 
up,  its  front  wheels  spinning  and  its  great  headlights 
searching  the  sky.  For  a  split  second,  resting  on  the 
petrol  tank,  it  seemed  to  paw  at  the  heavens  like  a  giant 
praying-mantis.  Then  slowly  it  toppled  over  backwards 
and  fell  with  a  splintering  crash  of  coachwork  and  glass. 

In  the  deafening  silence,  the  near-side  front  wheel 
whispered  briefly  on  and  then  squeaked  to  a  stop. 

Le  Chiffre  and  his  two  men  only  had  to  walk  a  few 
yards  from  their  ambush. 

'Put  your  guns  away  and  get  him  out,'  he  ordered 
brusquely.  'I'll  keep  you  covered.  Be  careful  of  him.  I 
don't  want  a  corpse.  And  hurry  up,  it's  getting  light.' 

The  two  men  got  down  on  their  knees.  One  of  them 
took  out  a  long  knife  and  cut  some  of  the  fabric  away 
from  the  side  of  the  convertible  hood  and  took  hold  of 
Bond's  shoulders.  He  was  unconscious  and  immovable. 
The  other  squeezed  between  the  up-turned  car  and  the 
bank  and  forced  his  way  through  the  crumpled  window- 
frame.  He  eased  Bond's  legs,  pinned  between  the 
steering  wheel  and  the  fabric  roof  of  the  car.  Then  they 
inched  him  out  through  a  hole  in  the  hood. 

They  were  sweating  and  filthy  with  dust  and  oil  by  the 
time  they  had  him  lying  in  the  road. 

The  thin  man  felt  his  heart  and  then  slapped  his  face 
hard  on  either  side.  Bond  grunted  and  moved  a  hand. 
The  thin  man  slapped  him  again. 

'That's  enough,'  said  Le  Chiffre.  'Tie  his  arms,  and 
put  him  in  the  car.  Here.'  He  threw  a  roll  of  flex  to  the 
man.  'Empty  his  pockets  first  and  give  me  his  gun.  He 
may  have  got  some  other  weapons,  but  we  can  get  them 
later.' 

He  took  the  objects  the  thin  man  handed  him  and 


THE  CRAWLING  OFTHESKIN 


105 


stuffed  them  and  Bond's  Beretta  into  his  wide  pockets 
without  examining  them.  He  left  the  men  to  it  and 
walked  back  to  the  car.  His  face  showed  neither 
pleasure  nor  excitement. 

It  was  the  sharp  bite  of  the  wire  flex  into  his  wrists 
that  brought  Bond  to  himself.  He  was  aching  all  over  as 
if  he  had  been  thrashed  with  a  wooden  club;  but  when 
he  was  yanked  to  his  feet  and  pushed  towards  the 
narrow  side-road  where  the  engine  of  the  Citrogn  was 
already  running  softly,  he  found  that  no  bones  were 
broken.  But  he  felt  in  no  mood  for  desperate  attempts 
to  escape  and  allowed  himself  to  be  dragged  into  the 
back  seat  of  the  car  without  resisting. 

He  felt  thoroughly  dispirited  and  weak  in  resolve  as 
well  as  in  his  body.  He  had  had  to  take  too  much  in  the 
past  twenty-four  hours  and  now  this  last  stroke  by  the 
enemy  seemed  almost  too  final.  This  time  there  could  be 
no  miracles.  No  one  knew  where  he  was  and  no  one 
would  miss  him  until  well  on  into  the  morning.  The 
wreck  of  his  car  would  be  found  before  very  long,  but  it 
would  take  hours  to  trace  the  ownership  to  him. 

And  Vesper.  He  looked  to  the  right,  past  the  thin  man 
who  was  lying  back  with  his  eyes  closed.  His  first  reac- 
tion was  one  of  scorn.  Damn  fool  girl  getting  herself 
trussed  up  like  a  chicken,  having  her  skirt  pulled  over 
her  head  as  if  the  whole  of  this  business  was  some  kind 
of  dormitory  rag.  But  then  he  felt  sorry  for  her.  Her 
naked  legs  looked  so  childlike  and  defenceless. 

'Vesper,'  he  said  softly. 

There  was  no  answer  from  the  bundle  in  the  corner, 
and  Bond  suddenly  had  a  chill  feeling;  but  then  she 
stirred  slightly. 

At  the  same  time  the  thin  man  caught  him  a  hard 
back-handed  blow  over  the  heart . 

'Silence.' 

Bond  doubled  over  with  pain  and  to  shield  himself 
from  another  blow,  only  to  get  a  rabbit  punch  on  the 


106 


CASINO  ROYALE 


back  of  the  neck  which  made  him  arch  back  again,  the 
breath  whistling  through  his  teeth. 

The  thin  man  had  hit  him  a  hard  professional  cutting 
blow  with  the  edge  of  the  hand.  There  was  something 
rather  deadly  about  his  accuracy  and  his  lack  of  effort. 
He  was  now  again  lying  back,  his  eyes  closed.  He  was  a 
man  to  make  you  afraid,  an  evil  man.  Bond  hoped  he 
might  get  a  chance  of  killing  him. 

Suddenly  the  boot  of  the  car  was  thrown  open,  and 
there  was  a  clanking  crash.  Bond  guessed  that  they  had 
beert  waiting  for  the  third  man  to  retrieve  the  carpet  of 
spiked  chain-mail.  He  assumed  it  must  be  an  adapta- 
tion of  the  nail-studded  devices  used  by  the  Resistance 
against  German  staff-cars. 

Again  he  reflected  on  the  efficiency  of  these  people 
and  the  ingenuity  of  the  equipment  they  used.  Had  M. 
underestimated  their  resourcefulness?  He  stifled  a 
desire  to  place  the  blame  on  London.  It  was  he  who 
should  have  known.  He  who  should  have  been  warned 
by  small  signs  and  taken  infinitely  more  precautions.  He 
squirmed  as  he  thought  of  himself  washing  down  cham- 
pagne in  the  Roi  Galant  while  the  enemy  was  busy 
preparing  his  counterstroke.  He  cursed  himself  and 
cursed  the  hubris  which  had  made  him  so  sure  that  the 
battle  was  won  and  the  enemy  in  flight. 

All  this  time  Le  Chiffre  had  said  nothing.  Directly  the 
boot  was  shut,  the  third  man,  whom  Bond  at  once 
recognized,  climbed  in  beside  him,  and  Le  Chiffre  re- 
versed furiously  back  on  the  main  road.  Then  he  banged 
the  gear  lever  through  the  gate  and  was  soon  doing 
seventy  on  down  the  coast. 

By  now  it  was  dawn — about  five  o'clock,  Bond 
guessed — and  he  reflected  that  a  mile  or  two  on  was  the 
turning  to  Le  Chiffre's  villa.  He  had  not  thought  that 
they  would  take  Vesper  there.  Now  that  he  realized  that 
Vesper  had  only  been  a  sprat  to  catch  a  mackerel  the 
whole  picture  became  clear. 

It  was  an  extremely  unpleasant  picture.  For  the  first 


THE  CRAWLING  OFTHE  SKIN 


107 


time  since  his  capture,  fear  came  to  Bond  and  crawled 
up  his  spine. 

Ten  minutes  later  the  Citroen  lurched  to  the  left,  ran 
on  a  few  hundred  yards  up  a  small  side  road  partly 
overgrown  with  grass  and  then  between  a  pair  of 
dilapidated  stucco  pillars  into  an  unkempt  forecourt 
surrounded  by  a  high  wall.  They  drew  up  in  front  of  a 
peeling  white  door.  Above  a  rusty  bell-push  in  the  door- 
frame, small  zinc  letters  on  a  wooden  base  spelled  out 
'Les  Noctambules'  and,  underneath  'SonnezSVP.' 

From  what  Bond  could  see  of  the  cement  frontage, 
the  villa  was  typical  of  the  French  seaside  style.  He 
could  imagine  the  dead  bluebottles  being  hastily  swept 
out  for  the  summer  let  and  the  stale  rooms  briefly  aired 
by  a  cleaning  woman  sent  by  the  estate  agent  in  Royale. 
Every  five  years  one  coat  of  whitewash  would  be 
slapped  over  the  rooms  and  the  outside  woodwork,  and 
for  a  few  weeks  the  villa  would  present  a  smiling  front 
to  the  world.  Then  the  winter  rains  would  get  to  work, 
and  the  imprisoned  flies,  and  quickly  the  villa  would 
take  on  again  its  abandoned  look. 

But,  Bond  reflected,  it  would  admirably  serve  Le 
Chiffre's  purpose  this  morning,  if  he  was  right  in 
assuming  what  that  was  to  be.  They  had  passed  no  other 
house  since  his  capture,  and  from  his  reconnaissance  of 
the  day  before  he  knew  there  was  only  an  occasional 
farm  for  several  miles  to  the  south. 

As  he  was  urged  out  of  the  car  with  a  sharp  crack  in 
the  ribs  ,  from  the  thin  man's  elbow,  he  knew  that  Le 
Chiffre  could  have  them  both  to  himself,  undisturbed, 
for  several  hours.  Again  his  skin  crawled. 

Le  Chiffre  opened  the  door  with  a  key  and  disap- 
peared inside.  Vesper,  looking  incredibly  indecent  in  the 
early  light  of  day,  was  pushed  in  after  him  with  a  torrent 
of  lewd  French  from  the  man  whom  Bond  knew  to  him- 
self as  'the  Corsican.'  Bond  followed  without  giving  the 
thin  man  a  chance  to  urge  him. 

The  key  of  the  front  door  turned  in  the  lock. 


108 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Le  Chiffre  was  standing  in  the  doorway  of  a  room  on 
the  right.  He  crooked  a  finger  at  Bond  in  a  silent, 
spidery  summons. 

Vesper  was  being  led  down  a  passage  towards  the 
back  of  the  house.  Bond  suddenly  decided. 

With  a  wild  backward  kick  which  connected  with  the 
thin  man's  shins  and  brought  a  whistle  of  pain  from 
him,  he  hurled  himself  down  the  passage  after  her.  With 
only  his  feet  as  weapons,  there  was  no  plan  in  his  mind 
except  to  do  as  much  damage  as  possible  to  the  two  gun- 
men and  be  able  to  exchange  a  few  hurried  words  with 
the  girl.  No  other  plan  was  possible.  He  just  wanted  to 
tell  her  not  to  give  in. 

As  the  Corsican  turned  at  the  commotion  Bond  was 
on  him  and  his  right  shoe  was  launched  in  a  flying  kick 
at  the  other  man's  groin. 

Like  lightning  the  Corsican  slammed  himself  back 
against  the  wall  of  the  passage  and,  as  Bond's  foot 
whistled  past  his  hip,  he  very  quickly,  but  somehow 
delicately,  shot  out  his  left  hand,  caught  Bond's  shoe  at 
the  top  of  its  arc  and  twisted  it  sharply. 

Completely  off  balance,  Bond's  other  foot  left  the 
ground.  In  the  air  his  whole  body  turned  and  with  the 
momentum  of  his  rush  behind  it  crashed  sideways  and 
down  on  to  the  floor. 

For  a  moment  he  lay  there,  all  the  breath  knocked  out 
of  him.  Then  the  thin  man  came  and  hauled  him  up 
against  the  wall  by  his  collar.  He  had  a  gun  in  his  hand. 
He  looked  Bond  inquisitively  in  the  eyes,  Then 
unhurriedly  he  bent  down  and  swiped  the  barrel 
viciously  across  Bond's  shins.  Bond  grunted  and  caved 
at  the  knees. 

'If  there  is  a  next  time,  it  will  be  across  your  teeth,' 
said  the  thin  man  in  bad  French. 

A  door  slammed.  Vesper  and  the  Corsican  had  disap- 
peared. Bond  turned  his  head  to  the  right.  Le  Chiffre 
had  moved  a  few  feet  out  into  the  passage.  He  lifted  his 


THE  CRAWLING  OFTHESKIN 


109 


finger  and  crooked  it  again.  Then  for  the  first  time  he 
spoke. 

'Come,  my  dear  friend.  We  are  wasting  our  time.' 

He  spoke  in  English  with  no  accent.  His  voice  was  low 
and  soft  and  unhurried.  He  showed  no  emotion.  He 
might  have  been  a  doctor  summoning  the  next  patient 
from  the  waiting-room,  a  hysterical  patient  who  had 
been  expostulating  feebly  with  a  nurse. 

Bond  again  felt  puny  and  impotent.  Nobody  but  an 
expert  in  ju-jitsu  could  have  handled  him  with  the  Cor- 
sican's  economy  and  lack  of  fuss.  The  cold  precision 
with  which  the  thin  man  had  paid  him  back  in  his  own 
coin  had  been  equally  unhurried,  even  artistic. 

Almost  docilely  Bond  walked  back  down  the  passage. 
He  had  nothing  but  a  few  more  bruises  to  show  for  his 
clumsy  gesture  o  f  resistance  to  these  people . 

As  he  preceded  the  thin  man  over  the  threshold  he 
knew  that  he  was  utterly  and  absolutely  in  their  power, 


CHAPTER  17 

'My  Dear  Boy' 


i  ,.  . 

It  was  a  large  bare  room,  sparsely  furnished  in 
cheap  French  'art  nouveau'  style.  It  was  difficult  to  say 
whether  it  was  intended  as  a  living-  or  dining-room,  for 
a  flimsy-looking  mirrored  sideboard,  sporting  an 
orange  crackle-ware  fruit  dish  and  two  painted  wooden 
candlesticks,  took  up  most  of  the  wall  opposite  the  door 
and  contradicted  the  faded  pink  sofa  ranged  against  the 
other  side  of  the  room. 

There  was  no  table  in  the  centre  under  the 
alabasterine  ceiling  light,  only  a  small  square  of  stained 
carpet  with  a  futurist  design  in  contrasting  browns. 

Over  by  the  window  was  an  incongruous-looking 
throne-like  chair  in  carved  oak  with  a  red  velvet  seat,  a 
low  table  on  which  stood  an  empty  water  carafe  and  two 
glasses,  and  a  light  armchair  with  a  round  cane  seat  and 
no  cushion. 

Half-closed  Venetian  blinds  obscured  the  view  from 
the  window,  but  cast  bars  of  early  sunlight  over  the  few 
pieces  of  furniture  and  over  part  of  the  brightly  papered 


110 


MY  DEAR  BOY' 


111 


wall  and  the  brown-stained  floorboards. 

Le  Chif fre  pointed  at  the  cane  chair. 

'That  will  do  excellently,'  he  said  to  the  thin  man. 
'Prepare  him  quickly.  If  he  resists,  damage  him  only  a 
little.' 

He  turned  to  Bond.  There  was  no  expression  on  his 
large  face,  and  his  round  eyes  were  uninterested.  'Take 
off  your  clothes.  For  every  effort  to  resist,  Basil  will 
break  one  of  your  fingers.  We  are  serious  people,  and 
your  good  health  is  of  no  interest  to  us.  Whether  you 
live  or  die  depends  on  the  outcome  of  the  talk  we  are 
about  to  have.' 

He  made  a  gesture  toward  the  thin  man  and  left  the 
room. 

The  thiri  man's  first  action  was  a  curious  one.  He 
opened  the  clasp-knife  he  had  used  on  the  hood  of 
Bond's  car,  took  the  small  armchair,  and  with  a  swift 
motion  cut  out  its  cane  seat. 

Then  he  came  back  to  Bond,  sticking  the  still  open 
knife,  like  a  fountain  pen,  in  the  vest  pocket  of  his  coat. 
He  turned  Bond  round  to  the  light  and  unwound  the 
flex  from  his  wrists.  Then  he  stood  quickly  aside,  and 
the  knife  was  back  in  his  right  hand. 

'Vite.' 

Bond  stood  chafing  his  swollen  wrists  and  debating 
with  himself  how  much  time  he  could  waste  by  resisting. 
He  only  delayed  an  instant.  With  a  swift  step  and  a 
downward  sweep  of  his  free  hand,  the  thin  man  seized 
the  collar  of  his  dinner  jacket  and  dragged  it  down, 
pinning  Bond's  arms  back.  Bond  made  the  traditional 
counter  to  this  old  policeman's  hold  by  dropping  down 
on  one  knee;  but  as  he  dropped  the  thin  man  dropped 
with  him  and  at  the  same  time  brought  his  knife  round 
and  down  behind  Bond's  back.  Bond  felt  the  back  of 
the  blade  pass  down  his  spine.  There  was  the  hiss  of  a 
sharp  knife  through  cloth  and  his  arms  were  suddenly 
free  as  the  two  halves  of  his  coat  fell  forward. 

He  cursed  and  stood  up.  The  thin  man  was  back  in  his  . 


112 


CASINO  ROYALE 


previous  position,  his  knife  again  at  the  ready  in  his 
relaxed  hand.  Bond  let  the  two  halves  of  his  dinner 
jacket  fall  off  his  arms  on  to  the  floor. 

'Allez,'  said  the  thin  man  with  a  faint  trace  of  im- 
patience. 

Bond  looked  him  in  the  eye  and  then  slowly  started  to 
take  off  his  shirt. 

Le  Chiffre  came  quietly  back  into  the  room.  He 
carried  a  pot  of  what  smelt  like  coffee.  He  put  it  on  the 
small  table  near  the  window.  He  also  placed  beside  it  on 
the  table  two  other  homely  objects,  a  three-foot-long 
carpet-beater  in  twisted  cane  and  a  carving-knife. 

He  settled  himself  comfortably  on  the  thronelike 
chair  and  poured  some  of  the  coffee  into  one  of  the 
glasses.  With  one  foot  he  hooked  forward  the  small 
armchair,  whose  seat  was  now  an  empty  circular  frame 
of  wood,  until  it  was  directly  opposite  him. 

Bond  stood  stark  naked  in  the  middle  ,  of  the  room, 
bruises  showing  livid  on  his  white  body,  his  face  a  grey 
mask  of  exhaustion  and  knowledge  of  what  was  to 
come. 

'Sit  down  there.'  Le  Chiffre  nodded  at  the  chair  in 
front  of  him. 

Bond  walked  over  and  sat  down. 

The  thin  man  produced  some  flex.  With  this  he  bound 
Bond's  wrists  to  the  arms  of  the  chair  and  his  ankles  to 
the  front  legs.  He  passed  a  double  strand  across  his 
chest,  under  the  arrnpits  and  through  the  chair-back.  He 
made  no  mistakes  with  the  knots  and  left  no  play  in  any 
of  the  bindings.  All  of  them  bit  sharply  into  Bond's 
flesh.  The  legs  of  the  chair  were  broadly  spaced  and 
Bond  could  not  even  rock  it. 

He  was  utterly  a  prisoner,  naked  and  defenceless. 

His  buttocks  and  the  underpart  of  his  body  protruded 
through  the  seat  of  the  chair  towards  the  floor. 

Le  Chiffre  nodded  to  the  thin  man,  who  quietly  left 
the  room  and  closed  the  door. 

There  was  a  packet  of  Gauloises  on  the  table  and  a 


'MY  DEAR  BOY" 


lighter.  Le  Chiffre  lit  a  cigarette  and\ 
mouthful  of  coffee  from  the  glass.  Then  \ 
the  cahe  carpet-beater  and,  resting  the  h 
fortably  on  his  knee,  allowed  the  flat  trefoilX      ^  ne 
on  the  floor  directly  under  Bond's  chair.        \  ^ 

He  looked  Bond  carefully,  almost  caressingly  in  the 
eyes.  Then  his  wrist  sprang  suddenly  upwards  on  his 
knee. 

The  result  was  startling.   

Bond's  whole  body  arched  in  an  involuntary  spasm. 
His  face  contracted  in  a  soundless  scream,  and  his  lips 
drew  right  away  from  his  teeth.  At  the  same  time  his 
head  flew  back  with  a  jerk  showing  the  taut  sinews  of 
his  neck.  For  an  instant,  muscles  stood  out  in  knots  all 
over  his  body,  and  his  toes  and  fingers  clenched  until 
they  were  quite  white.  Then  his  body  sagged,  and  per- 
spiration started  to  bead  all  over  his  skin.  He  uttered  a 
deep  groan.  — 

Le  Chiffre  Waited  for  his  eyes  to  open. 

'You  see,  dear  boy?'  He  smiled  a  soft,  fat  smile.  'Is 
the  position  quite  clear  now? ' 

A  drop  of  sweat  fell  off  Bond's  chin  on  to  his  naked 
chest.  ■ 

'Now  let  us  get  down  to  business  and  see  how  soon  we 
can  be  finished  with  this  unfortunate  mess  you  have  got 
yourself  into.'  He  puffed  cheerfully  at  his  cigarette  and 
gave  an  admonitory  tap  on  the  floor  beneath  Bond's 
chair  with  his  horrible  and  incongruous  instrument. 

'My  dear  boy' — Le  Chiffre  spoke  like  a  father — 'the 
game  of  Red  Indians  is  over,  quite  over.  You  have 
stumbled  by  mischance  into  a  game  for  grown-ups,  and 
you  have  already  found  it  a  painful  experience.  You  are 
not  equipped,  my  dear  boy,  to  play  games  with  adults; 
and  it  was  very  foolish  of  your  nanny  in  London  to  have 
sent  you  out  here  with  your  spade  and  bucket.  Very 
foolish  indeed,  and  most  unfortunate  for  you. 

'But  we  must  stop  joking,  my  dear  fellow,  although  I 
am  sure  you  would  like  to  follow  me  in  developing  this 


CASINO  ROYALE 
-  . 

jPJ^autionary  tale, 
'emy  dropped  his  bantering  tone  and  looked 
at  Bond  sharply  and  venomously. 
1  Where  is  the  money? ' 

Bond's  bloodshot  eyes  looked  emptily  back  at  him. 

Again  the  upward  jerk  of  the  wrist,  and  again  Bond's 
whole  body  writhed  and  contorted. 

Le  Chiffre  waited  until  the  tortured  heart  eased  down 
its  laboured  pumping  and  until  Bond's  eyes  dully 
opened  again. 

'Perhaps  I  should  explain,'  said  Le  Chiffre.  'I  intend 
to  continue  attacking  the  sensitive  parts  of  your  body 
until  you  answer  my  question.  I  am  without  mercy,  and 
there  will  be  no  relenting.  There  is  no  one  to  stage  a  last- 
minute  rescue,  and  there  is  no  possibility  of  escape  for 
you.  This  is  not  a  romantic  adventure  story  in  which  the 
villain  is  finally  routed  and  the  hero  is  given  a  medal  and 
marries  the  girl.  Unfortunately  these  things  don't 
happen  in  real  life.  If  you  continue  to  be  obstinate,  you 
will  be  tortured  to  the  edge  of  madness,  and  then  the  girl 
will  be  brought  in  and  we  will  set  about  her  in  front  of 
you.  If  that  is  still  not  enough,  you  will  both  be  pain- 
fully killed,  and  I  shall  reluctantly  leave  your  bodies  and 
make  my  way  abroad  to  a  comfortable  house  which  is 
waiting  for  me.  There  I  shall  take  up  a  useful  and 
profitable  career  and  live  to  a' ripe  and  peaceful  old  age 
in  the  bosom  of  the  family  I  shall  doubtless  create.  So 
you  see,  my  dear  boy,  that  I  stand  to  lose  nothing.  If 
you  hand  the  money  over,  so  much  the  better.  If  not,  I 
shall  shrug  my  shoulders  and  be  on  my  way. ' 

He  paused,  and  his  wrist  lifted  slightly  on  his  knee. 
Bond's  flesh  cringed  as  the  cane  surface  just  touched 
him. 

'But  you,  my  dear  fellow,  can  only  hope  that  I  shall 
spare  you  further  pain  and  spare  your  life.  There  is  no 
other  hope  for  you  but  that.  Absolutely  none. 

'Well?' 

Bond  closed  his  eyes  and  waited  for  the  pain.  He 


'MY  DEAR  BOY' 


115 


knew  that  the  beginning  of  torture  is  the  worst.  There  is 
a  parabola  of  agony.  A  crescendo  leading  up  to  a  peak, 
and  then  the  nerves  are  blunted  and  react  progressively 
less  until  unconsciousness  and  death.  All  he  could  do 
was  to  pray  for  the  peak,  pray  that  his  spirit  would  hold 
out  so  long  and  then  accept  the  long  free-wheel  down  to 
the  final  blackout. 

He  had  been  told  by  colleagues  who  had  survived  tor- 
ture by  the  Germans  and  the  Japanese  that  towards  the 
end  there  came  a  wonderful  period  of  warmth  and 
languor  leading  into  a  sort  of  sexual  twilight  where  pain 
turned  to  pleasure  and  where  hatred  and  fear  of  the  tor- 
tures turned  to  a  masochistic  infatuation.  It  was  the 
.  supreme  test  of  will,  he  had  learnt,  to  avoid  showing  this 
form  of  punch-drunkenness.  Directly  it  was  suspected 
they  would  either  kill  you  at  once  and  save  themselves 
N  further  useless  effort,  or  let  you  recover  sufficiently  for 
your  nerves  to  creep  back  to  the  other  side  of  the 
parabola.  Then  they  would  start  again. 

He  opened  his  eyes  a  fraction. 

Le  Chiffre  had  been  waiting  for  this,  and  like  a  rattle- 
snake the  cane  instrument  leapt  up  from  the  floor.  It 
struck  again  and  again  so  that  Bond  screamed  and  his 
body  jangled  in  the  chair  like  a  marionette. 

Le  Chiffre  desisted  only  when  Bond's  tortured 
spasms  showed  a  trace  of  sluggishness.  He  sat  for  a 
while  sipping  his  coffee  and  frowning  slightly  like  a 
surgeon  watching  a  cardiograph  during  a  difficult 
operation. 

When  Bond's  eyes  flickered  and  opened  he  addressed 
him  again,  but  now  with  a  trace  of  impatience. 

'We  know  that  the  money  is  somewhere  in  your 
room,'  he  said.  'You  drew  a  cheque  to  cash  for  forty 
,/  million  francs,  and  I  know  that  you  went  back  to  the 
hotel  to  hide  it.' 

For  a  moment  Bond  wondered  how  he  had  been  so 
certain. 

'Directly  you  left  for  the  night  club,'  continued  Le 


116 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Chiffre,  'your  room  was  searched  by  four  of  my 
people.' 

The  Muntzes  must  have  helped,  reflected  Bond. 

'We  found  a  good  deal  in  childish  hiding-places.  The 
ball-cock  in  the  lavatory  yielded  an  interesting  little 
code-book,  -and  we  found  some  more  of  your  papers 
taped  to  the  back  of  a  drawer.  All  the  furniture  has  been 
taken  to  pieces,  and  your  clothes  and  the  curtains  and 
bedclothes  have  been  cut  up.  Every  inch  of  the  room  has 
been  searched,  and  all  the  fittings  removed.  It  is  most 
unfortunate  for  you  that  we  didn't  find  the  cheque.  If 
we  had,  you  would  now  be  comfortably  in  bed,  perhaps 
with  the  beautiful  Miss  Lynd,  instead  of  this.'  He  lashed 
upwards. 

Through  the  red  mist  of  pain,  Bond  thought  of 
Vesper.  He  could  imagine  how  she  was  being  used  by 
the  two  gunmen.  They  would  be  making  the  most  of  her 
before  she  was  sent  for  by  Le  Chiffre.  He  thought  of  the 
fat  wet  lips  of  the  Corsican  and  the  slow  cruelty  of  the 
thin  man.  Poor  wretch  to  have  been  dragged  into  this. 
Poor  little  beast. 

Le  Chiffre  was  talking  again. 

'Torture  is  a  terrible  thing,'  he  was  saying  as  he 
puffed  at  a  fresh  cigarette,  'but  it  is  a  simple  matter  for 
the  torturer,  particularly  when  the  patient' — he  smiled 
at  the  word — 'is  a  man.  You  see,  my  dear  Bond,  with  a 
man  it  is  quite  unnecessary  to  indulge  in  refinements. 
With  this  simple  instrument,  or  with  almost  any  other 
object,  one  can  cause  a  man  as  much  pain  as  is  possible 
or  necessary.  Do  not  believe  what  you  read  in  novels  or 
books  about  the  war.  There  is  nothing  worse.  It  is  not 
only  the  immediate  agony,  but  also  the  thought  that 
your  manhood  is  being  gradually  destroyed  and  that  at 
the  end,  if  you  will  not  yield,  you  will  no  longer  be  a 
man. 

'That,  my  dear  Bond,  is  a  sad  and  terrible  thought — a 
long  chain  of  agony  for  the  body  and  also  for  the  mind, 
and  then  the  final  screaming  moment  when  you  will  beg 


'MY  DEAR  BOY'  117 

me  to  kill  you.  All  that  is  inevitable  unless  you  tell  me 
where  you  hid  the  money. ' 

He  poured  some  more  coffee  into  the  glass  and  drank 
it  down,  leaving  brown  corners  to  his  mouth. 

Bond's  lips  were  writhing.  He  was  trying  to  say 
something.  At  last  he  got  the  word  out  in  a  harsh  croak: 
'Drink,'  he  said  and  his  tongue  came  out  and  swilled 
across  his  dry  lips.  . 

'Of  course,  my  dear  boy,  how  thoughtless  of  me!'  Le 
Chiffre  poured  some  coffee  into  the  other  glass.  There 
was  a  ring  of  sweat  drops  on  the  floor  all  around  Bond's 
chair.  v 

'We  must  certainly  keep  your  tongue  lubricated.' 

He  laid  the  handle  of  the  carpet-beater  down  on  the 
floor  between  his  thick  legs  and  rose  from  his  chair.  He 
went  behind  Bond  and  taking  a  handful  of  his  soaking 
hair  in  one  hand,  he  wrenched  Bond's,  head  sharply 
back.  He  poured  the  coffee  down  Bond's  throat  in  small 
mouthfuls  so  that  he  would  not  choke.  Then  he  released 
his  head  so  that  it  fell  forward  again  on  his  chest.  He 
went  back  to  his  chair  and  picked  up  the  carpet-beater. 

Bond  raised  his  head  and  spoke  thickly. 

'Money  no  good  to  you.'  His  voice  was  a  laborious 
croak. 'Police  trace  it  to  you.' 

Exhausted  by  the  effort,  his  head  sank  forward  again. 
He  was  a  little,  but  only  a  little,  exaggerating  the  extent 
of  his  physical  collapse.  Anything  to  gain  time,  aind 
anything  to  defer  the  next  searing  pain. 

'Ah,  my  dear  fellow,  I  had  forgotten  to  tell  you.'  Le 
Chiffre  smiled  wolfishly.  'We  met  after  our  little  game 
at  the  Casino,  and  you  were  such  a  sportsman  that  you 
agreed  we  would  have  one  more  run  through  the  pack 
between  the  two  of  us.  It  was  a  gallant  gesture.  Typical 
of  an  English  gentleman. 

'Unfortunately  you  lost,  and  this  upset  you  so  much 
that  you  decided  to  leave  Royale  immediately  for  an 
unknown  destination.  Like  the  gentleman  you  are,  you 
very  kindly  gave  me  a  note  explaining  the  circumstances 


118 


CASINO  ROYALE 


so  that  I  would  have  no  difficulty  in  cashing  your 
cheque.  You  see,  dear  boy,  everything  has  been  thought 
of,  and  you  need  have  no  fears  on  my  account.'  He 
chuckled  fatly. 

'Now  shall  we  continue?  I  have  all  the  time  in  the 
world,  and  truth  to  tell  I  am  rather  interested  to  see  how 
long  a  man  can  stand  this  particular  form  of — er — en- 
couragement.' He  rattled  the  harsh  cane  on  the  floor. 

So  that  was  the  score,  thought  Bond,  with  a  final 
sinking  of  the  heart.  The  'unknown  destination'  would 
be  under  the  ground  or  under  the  sea,  or  perhaps,  more 
simple,  under  the  crashed  Bentley.  Well,  if  he  had  to  die 
anyway,  he  might  as  well  try  it  the  hard  way.  He  had  no 
hope  that  Mathis  or  Leiter  would  get  to  him  in  time,  but 
at  least  there  was  a  chance  that  they  would  catch  up  with 
Le  Chiffre  before  he  could  get  away.  It  must  be  getting 
on  for  seven.  The  car  might  have  been  found  by  now.  It 
was  a  choice  of  evils;  but  the  longer  Le  Chiffre  con- 
tinued the  torture  the  more  likely  he  would  be  revenged. 

Bond  lifted  his  head  and  looked  Le  Chiffre  in  the 
eyes. 

The  china  of  the  whites  was  now  veined  with  red.  It 
was  like  looking  at  two  black  currants  poached  in 
blood.  The  rest  of  the  wide  face  was  yellowish  except 
where  a  thick  black  stubble  covered  the  moist  skin.  The 
upward  edges  of  black  coffee  at  the  corners  of  the 
mouth  gave  his  expression  a  false  smile  and  the  whole 
face  was  faintly  striped  by  the  light  through  the  Venetian 
blinds.  ', 

'No,'  he  said  flatly, '. . .  you.' 

Le  Chiffre  grunted  and  set  to  work  again  with  savage 
fury.  Occasionally  he  snarled  like  a  wild  beast. 
After  ten  minutes  Bond  had  fainted,  blessedly, 
Le  Chiffre  at  once  stopped.  He  wiped  some  sweat 
from  his  face  with  a  circular  motion  of  his  disengaged 
hand.  Then  he  looked  at  his  watch  and  seemed  to  make 
up  his  mind.  • 

He  got  up  and  stood  behind  the  inert,  dripping  body. 


'MY  DEAR  BOY* 


119 


There  was  no  colour  in  Bond's  face  or  anywhere  on  his 
body  above  the  waist.  There  was  a  faint  flutter  of  his 
skin  above  the  heart.  Otherwise  he  might  have  been 
dead. 

Le  Chiffre  seized  Bond's  ears  and  harshly  twisted 
them.  Then  he  leant  forward  and  slapped  his  cheeks 
hard  several  times.  Bond's  head  rolled  from  side  to  side 
with  each  blow.  Slowly  his  breathing  became  deeper.  An 
animal  groan  came  from  his  lolling  mouth.  , 

Le  Chiffre  took  a  glass  of  coffee  and  poured  some 
into  Bond's  mouth  and  threw  the  rest  in  his  face.  Bond's 
eyes  slowly  opened. 

Le  Chiffre  returned  to  his  chair  and  waited.  He  lit  a 
cigarette  and  contemplated  the  spattered  pool  of  blood 
on  the  floor  beneath  the  inert  body  opposite. 

Bond  groaned  again  pitifully.  It  was  an  inhuman 
sound.  His  eyes  opened  wide,  and  he  gazed  dully  at  his 
torturer.  .  .„ 

Le  Chiffre  spoke. 

'That  is  all,  Bond.  We  will  now  finish  with  you.  You 
understand?  Not  kill  you,  but  finish  with  you.  And  then 
we  will  have  in  the  girl  and  see  if  something  can  be  got 
out  of  the  remains  of  the  two  of  you.'  . 

He  reached  towards  the  table. 

'Say  goodbye  to  it,  Bond.' 


CHAPTER  18 

A  Craglike  Face 


It  was  extraordinary  to  hear  the  third  voice.  The 
hour's  ritual  had  only  demanded  a  duologue  against  the 
horrible  noise  of  the  torture.  Bond's  dimmed  senses 
hardly  took  it  in.  Then  suddenly  he  was  halfway  back  to 
consciousness.  He  found  he  could  see  and  hear  again. 
He  could  hear  the  dead  silence  after  the  one  quiet  word 
from  the  doorway.  He  could  see  Le  Chiffre's  head 
slowly  come  up  and  the  expression  of  blank  astonish- 
ment, of  innocent  amazement,  slowly  give  way  to  fear. 

'Shtop,'  had  said  the  voice,  quietly. 

Bond  heard  slow  steps  approaching  behind  his  chair. 

'Dhrop  it,'  said  the  voice. 

Bond  saw  Le  Chiffre's  hand  open  obediently  and  the 
knife  fall  with  a  clatter  to  the  floor. 

He  tried  desperately  to  read  into  Le  Chiffre's  face 
what  was  happening  behind  him,  but  all  he  saw  was 
blind  incomprehension  and  terror.  Le  Chiffre's  mouth 
worked,  but  only  a  high-pitched  'eek'  came  from  it.  His 
heavy  cheeks  trembled  as  he  tried  to  collect  enough 


120 


A  CRAGLIKE  FACE 


121 


saliva  in  his  mouth  to  say  something,  ask  something. 
His  hands  fluttered  vaguely  in  his  lap.  One  of  them 
made  a  slight  movement  towards  his  pocket,  but  in- 
stantly fell  back.  His  round  staring  eyes  had  lowered  for 
a  split  second,  and  Bond  guessed  there  was  a  gun  trained 
on  him. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence. 

'Smersh.' 

The  word  came  almost  with  a  sigh.  It  came  with  a 
downward  cadence  as  if  nothing  else  had  to  be  said.  It 
was  the  final  explanation.  The  last  word  of  all. 

'No,'  said  Le  Chiffre.  'No.  I  .  .  .'  His  voice  trailed 
off. 

Perhaps  he  was  going  to  explain,  to  apologize,  but 
what  he  must  have  seen  in  the  other's  face  made  it  all 
useless. 

'Your  two  men.  Both  dead.  You  are  a  fool  and  a  thief 
and  a  traitor.  I  have  been  sent  from  the  Soviet  Union  to 
eliminate  you.  You  are  fortunate  that  I  have  only  time 
to  shoot  you.  If  it  was  possible,  I  was  instructed  that 
you  should  die  most  painfully.  We  cannot  see  the  end  of 
the  trouble  you  have  caused.' 

The  thick  voice  stopped.  There  was  silence  in  the 
room  save  for  the  rasping  breath  of  Le  Chiffre. 

Somewhere  outside,  a  bird  began  to  sing  and  there 
were  other  small  noises  from  the  awakening  coun- 
tryside. The  sweat  on  Le  Chiffre's  face  glistened 
brightly. 

'Do  you  plead  guilty? ' 

Bond  wrestled  with  his  consciousness.  He  screwed  up 
his  eyes  and  tried  to  shake  his  head  to  clear  it;  but  his 
whole  nervous  system  was  numbed,  and  no  message 
was  transmitted  to  his  muscles.  He  could  just  keep  his 
focus  on  the  great  pale  face  in  front  of  him  and  on  its 
bulging  eyes. 

A  thin  string  of  saliva  crept  from  the  open  mouth  and 
hung  down  from  the  chin. 

'Yes,' said  the  mouth.      .     .  . 


122 


CASINO  ROYALE 


There  was  a  sharp  phut,  no  louder  than  a  bubble  of 
air  escaping  from  a  tube  of  toothpaste.  No  other  noise 
at  all,  and  suddenly  Le  Chiffre  had  grown  another  eye, 
a  third  eye  on  a  level  with  the  other  two,  right  where  the 
thick  nose  started  to  jut  out  below  the  forehead.  It  was  a 
small  black  eye,  without  eyelashes  or  eyebrows. 

For  a  second  the  three  eyes  looked  out  across  the 
room,  and  then  the  whole  face  seemed  to  slip  and  go 
down  on  one  knee.  The  two  outer  eyes  turned  trembling 
up  towards  the  ceiling.  Then  the  heavy  head  fell 
sideways  and  the  right  shoulder  and  finally  the  whole 
upper  part  of  the  body  lurched  over  the  arm  of  the  chair 
as  if  Le  Chiffre  were  going  to  be  sick.  But  there  was  only 
a  short  rattle  of  his  heels  on  the  ground,  and  then  no 
other  movement. 

The  tall  back  of  the  chair  looked  impassively  out 
across  the  dead  body  in  its  arms. 

There  was  a  faint  movement  behind  Bond.  A  hand 
came  from  behind  and  grasped  his  chin  and  pulled  it 
back. 

For  a  moment  Bond  looked  up  into  two  glittering  eyes 
behind  a  narrow  black  mask.  There  was  the  impression 
of  a  craglike  face  under  a  hatbrim,  the  collar  of  a  fawn 
mackintosh.  He  could  take  in  nothing  more  before  his 
head  was  pushed  down  again. 

'You  are  fortunate,'  said  the  voice.  'I  have  no  orders 
to  kill  you.  Your  life  has  been  saved  twice  in  one  day. 
But  you  can  tell  your  organization  that  SMERSH  is  only 
merciful  by  chance  or  by  mistake.  In  your  case  you  were 
saved  first  by  chance  and  now  by  mistake,  for  I  should 
have  had  orders  to  kill  any  foreign  spies  who  were 
hanging  around  this  traitor  like  flies  round  a  dog's- 
mess. 

'But  I  shall  leave  you  my  visiting  card.  You  are  a  gam- 
bler. You  play  at  cards.  One  day  perhaps  you  will  play 
against  one  of  us.  It  would  be  well  that  you  should  be 
known  as  a  spy.' 

Steps  moved  round  to  behind  Bond's  right  shoulder. 


A  CRAG  LIKE  FACE 


123 


There  was  the  click  of  a  knife  opening.  An  arm  in  some 
grey  material  came  into  Bond's  line  of  vision.  A  broad 
hairy  hand  emerging  from  a  dirty  white  shirt-cuff  was 
holding  a  thin  stiletto  like  a  fountain-pen.  It  poised  for  a 
moment  above  the  back  of  Bond's  right  hand,  im- 
movably bound  with  flex  to  the  arm  of  the  chair.  The 
point  of  the  stiletto  executed  three  quick  straight 
slashes.  A  fourth  slash  crossed  them  where  they  ended, 
just  short  of  the  knuckles.  Blood  in  the  shape  of  an  in- 
verted 'M'  welled  out  and  slowly  started  to  drip  on  to 
the  floor. 

The  pain  was  nothing  to  what  Bond  was  already  suf- 
fering, but  it  was  enough  to  plunge  him  again  into  un- 
consciousness. 

The  steps  moved  quietly  away  across  the  room.  The 
door  was  softly  closed. 

In  the  silence,  the  cheerful  small  sounds  of  the  sum- 
mer's day  crept  through  the  closed  window.  High  on  the 
left-hand  wall  hung  two  small  patches  of  pink  light.  They 
were  reflections  cast  upwards  from  the  floor  by  the 
zebra  stripes  of  June  sunshine,  cast  upwards  from  two 
separate  pools  of  blood  a  few  feet  apart. 

As  the  day  progressed  the  pink  patches  marched 
slowly  along  the  wall.  And  slowly  they  grew  larger. 


CHAPTER  19 

The  White  Tent 


You  are  about  to  awaken  when  you  dream  that 
you  are  dreaming. 

During  the  next  two  days  James  Bond  was  per- 
manently in  this  state  without  regaining  consciousness. 
He  watched  the  procession  of  his  dreams  go  by  without 
making  any  effort  to  disturb  their  sequence,  although 
many  of  them  were  terrifying  and  all  were  painful.  He 
knew  that  he  was  in  a  bed  and  that  he  was  lying  on  his 
back  and  could  not  move  and  in  one  of  his  twilight 
moments  he  thought  there  were  people  round  him;  but 
he  made  no  effort  to  open  his  eyes  and  reenter  the 
world. 

He  felt  safe  in  the  darkness,  and  he  hugged  it  to  him. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  a  bloody  nightmare 
shook  him  awake,  trembling  and  sweating.  There  was  a 
hand  on  his  forehead  which  he  associated  with  his 
dream.  He  tried  to  lift  an  arm  and  smash  it  sideways 
into  the  owner  of  the  hand,  but  his  arms  were  im- 
movable, secured  to  the  sides  of  his  bed.  His  whole  body 


124 


THEWHITETENT 


125 


was  strapped  down  and  something  like  a  large  white  cof- 
fin covered  him  from  chest  to  feet  and  obscured  his  view 
of  the  end  of  the  bed.  He  shouted  a  string  of  obscenities; 
but  the  effort  took  all  his  strength,  and  the  words  tailed 
off  into  a  sob.  Tears  of  forlornness  and  self-pity  welled 
out  of  his  eyes. 

A  woman's  voice  was  speaking,  and  the  words 
gradually  penetrated  to  him.  It  seemed  to  be  a  kind 
voice,  and  it  slowly  came  to  him  that  he  was  being  com- 
forted, and  that  this  was  a  friend  and  not  an  enemy.  He 
could  hardly  believe  it.  He  had  been  so  certain  that  he 
was  still  a  captive,  and  that  the  torture  was  about  to 
begin  again.  He  felt  his  face  being  softly  wiped  with  a 
cool  cloth  which  smelt  of  lavender,  and  then  he  sank 
back  into  his  dreams. 

When  he  awoke  again  some  hours  later  all  his  terrors 
had  gone,  and  he  felt  warm  and  languorous.  Sun  was 
streaming  into  the  bright  room,  and  garden  sounds 
came  through  the  window.  In  the  background  there  was 
the  noise  of  small  waves  on  a  beach.  As  he  moved  his 
head  he  heard  a  rustle,  and  a  nurse  who  had  been  sitting 
beside  his  pillow  rose  and  came  into  his  line  of  vision. 
She  was  pretty,  and  she  smiled  as  she  put  her  hand  on 
his  pulse. 

'Well,  I'm  certainly  glad  you've  woken  up  at  last.  I've 
never  heard  such  dreadful  language  in  my  life. ' 
Bond  smiled  back  at  her. 

'Where  am  I?'  he  asked,  and  was  surprised  that  his 
Voice  sounded  firm  and  clear. 

'You're  in  a  nursing  home  at  Royale  and  I've  been 
sent  over  from  England  to  look  after  you.  There  are  two 
of  us,  and  I'm  Nurse  Gibson.  Now  just  lie  quiet,  and  I'll 
go  and  tell  doctor  you're  awake.  You've  been  un- 
conscious since  they  brought  you  in,  and  we've  been 
quite  worried.' 

Bond  closed  his  eyes  and  mentally  explored  his  body. 
The  worst  pain  was  in  his  wrists  and  ankles  and  in  his 
right  hand  where  the  Russian  had  cut  him.  In  the  centre 


126 


CASINO  ROYALE 


of  the  body  there  was  no  feeling.  He  assumed  that  he 
had  been  given  a  local  anaesthetic.  The  rest  of  his  body 
ached  dully  as  if  he  had  been  beaten  all  over.  He  could 
feel  the  pressure  of  bandages  everywhere,  and  his  un- 
shaven neck  and  chin  prickled  against  the  sheets.  From 
the  feel  of  the  bristles  he  knew  that  he  must  have  been  at 
least  three  days  without  shaving.  That  meant  two  days 
since  the  morning  of  the  torture. 

-  He  was  preparing  a  short  list  of  questions  in  his  mind 
when  the  door  opened  and  the  doctor  came  in  followed 
by  the  nurse  and,  in  the  background,  the  dear  figure  of 
Mathis,  a  Mathis  looking  anxious  behind  his  broad 
smile,  who  put  a  finger  to  his  lips  and  walked  on,  tiptoe 
to  the  window  and  sat  down. 

The  doctor,  a  Frenchman  with  a  young  and  intelligent 
face,  had  been  detached  from  his  duties  with  the 
DeuxiSme  Bureau  to  look  after  Bond's  case.  He  came 
and  stood  beside  Bond  and  put  his  hand  on  Bond's 
forehead  while  he  looked  at  the  temperature  chart 
behind  the  bed. 

When  he  spoke  he  was  forthright. 

'You  have  a  lot  of  questions  to  ask,  my  dear  Mr. 
Bond,'  he  said  in  excellent  English,  'and  I  can  tell  you 
most  of  the  answers.  I  do  not  want  you  to  waste  your 
strength,  so  I  will  give  you  the  salient  facts  and  then  you 
may  have  a  few  minutes  with  Monsieur  Mathis  who 
wishes  to  obtain  one  or  two  details  from  you.  It  is  really 
too  early  for  this  talk,  but  I  wish  to  set  your  mind  at  rest 
so  that  we  can  proceed  with  the  task  of  repairing  your 
body  without  bothering  too  much  about  your  mind.' 

Nurse  Gibson  pulled  up  a  chair  for  the  doctor  and  left 
the  room. 

'You  have  been  here  about  two  days,'  continued  the 
doctor.  'Your  car  was  found  by  a  farmer  on  the  way  to 
market  in  Royale,  and  he  informed  the  police.  After 
some  delay  Monsieur  Mathis  heard  that  it  was  your  car, 
and  he  immediately  went  to  Les  Noctambules  with  his 
men.  You  and  Le  Chiffre  were  found  and  also  your 


THE  WHITE  TENT  127 

friend,  Miss  Lynd,  who  was  unharmed  and  according  to 
her  account  suffered  no  molestation.  She  was  prostrated 
with  shock,  but  is  now  fully  recovered  and  is  at  her 
hotel.  She  has  been  instructed  by  her  superior  in 
London  to  stay  at  Royale  under  your  orders  until  you 
are  sufficiently  recovered  to  go  back  to  England. 

'Le  Chiffre's  two  gunmen  are  dead,  each  killed  by  a 
single  .35  bullet  in  the  back  of  the  skull.  From  the  lack 
of  expression  on  their  faces,  they  evidently  never  saw  or 
heard  their  assailant.  They  were  found  in  the  same  room 
as  Miss  Lynd.  Le  Chiffre  is  dead,  shot  with  a  similar 
weapon  between  the  eyes.  Did  you  witness  his  death? ' 

'Yes,'  said  Bond. 

'Your  own  injuries  are  serious,  but  your  life  is  not  in 
danger  though  you  have  lost  a  lot  of  blood.  If  all  goes 
well,  you  will  recover  completely  and  none  of  the  func- 
tions of  your  body  will  be  impaired.'  The  doctor  smiled 
grimly.  'But  I  fear  that  you  will  continue  to  be  in  pain 
for  several  days,  and  it  will  be  my  endeavour  to  give  you 
as  much  comfort  as  possible.  Now  that  you  have 
regained  consciousness  your  arms  will  be  freed,  but  you 
must  not  move  your  body;  and  when  you  sleep  the  nurse 
has  orders  to  secure  your  arms  again.  Above  all,  it  is  im- 
portant that  you  rest  and  regain  your  strength.  At  the 
moment  you  are  suffering  from  a  grave  condition  of 
mental  and  physical,  shock.'  The  doctor  paused.  'For 
how  long  Were  you  maltreated? ' 

'About  an  hour, '  said  Bond. 

'Then  it  is  remarkable  that  you  are  alive,  and  I 
congratulate  you.  Few  men  could  have  supported  what 
you  have  been  through.  Perhaps  that  is  some  con- 
solation. As  Monsieur  Mathis  can  tell  you,  I  have  had  in 
my  time  to  treat  a  number  of  patients  who  have  suffered 
similar  handling,  and  not  one  has  come  through  it  as 
you  have  done.' 

The  doctor  looked  at  Bond  for  a  moment  and  turned 
brusquely  to  Mathis. 

'You  may  have  ten  minutes,  and  then  you  will  be 


128 


CASINO  ROYALE 


forcibly  ejected.  If  you  put  the  patient's  temperature 
up,  you  will  answer  for  it.' 

He  gave  them  both  a  broad  smile  and  left  the  room. 

Mathis  came  over  and  took  the  doctor's  chair. 

'That's  agoodman,'  said  Bond.  'I  like  him.' 

'He's  attached  to  the  Bureau,'  said  Mathis.  'He  is  a 
very  good  man,  and  I  will  tell  you  about  him  one  of 
these  days.  He  thinks  you  are  a  prodigy — and  so  do  I, 

'However,  that  can  wait.  As  you  can  imagine,  there  is 
much  to  clear  up,  and  I  am  being  pestered  by  Paris  and, 
of  course,  London,  and  even  by  Washington  via  our 
good  friend  Leiter.  Incidentally,'  he  broke  off,  'I  have  a 
personal  message  from  M.  He  spoke  to  me  himself  on 
the  telephone.  He  simply  said  to  tell  you  that  he  is  much 
impressed.  I  asked  if  that  was  all,  and  he  said:  "Well, 
tell  him  that  the  Treasury  is. greatly  relieved."  Then  he 
rang  off.' 

Bond  grinned  with  pleasure.  What  most  warmed  him 
was  that  M.  himself  should  have  rung  up  Mathis..  This 
was  quite  unheard  of.  The  very  existence  of  M.,  let 
alone  his  identity,  was  never  admitted.  He  could 
imagine  the  flutter  this  must  have  caused  in  the  ultra- 
security-minded  organization  in  London. 

'A  tall  thin  man  with  one  arm  came  over  from 
London  the  same  day  we  found  you,'  continued  Mathis, 
knowing  from  his  own  experience  that  these  shop  details 
would  interest  Bond  more  than  anything  else  and  give 
him  most  pleasure,  'and  he  fixed  up  the  nurses  and 
looked  after  everything.  Even  your  car's  being  repaired 
for  you.  He  seemed  to  be  Vesper's  boss.  He  spent  a  lot 
of  time  with  her  and  gave  her  strict  instructions  to  look 
after  you.' 

Head  of  S.,  thought  Bond.  They're  certainly  giving 
me  the  red-carpet  treatment. 

'Now,'  said  Mathis,  'to  business.  Who  killed  Le 
Chiffre?' 

'SMERSH,' said  Bond. 

Mathis  gave  a  low  whistle. 


THE  WHITE  TENT 


129 


'My  God,'  he  said  respectfully.  'So  they  were  on  to 
him.  What  did  he  look  like?'  ,: 

Bond  explained  briefly  what  had  happened  up  to  the 
moment  of  Le  Chiffre's  death,  omitting  all  but  the  most 
essential  details.  It  cost  him  an  effort,  and  he  was  glad 
when  it  was  done.  Casting  his  mind  back  to  the  scene 
awoke  the  whole  nightmare,  and  the  sweat  began  to 
pour  off  his  forehead  and  a  deep  throb  of  pain  started 
up  in  his  body. 

Mathis  realized  that  he  was  going  too  far.  Bond's 
voice  was  getting  feebler,  and  his  eyes  were  clouding. 
Mathis  snapped  shut  his  shorthand  book  and  laid  a 
hand  on  Bond's  shoulder. 

'Forgive  me,  my  friend,'  he  said.  'It  is  all  over  now, 
and  you  are  in  safe  hands.  All  is  well,  and  the  whole 
plan  has  gone  splendidly.  We  have  announced  that  Le 
Chiffre  shot  his  two  accomplices  and  then  committed 
suicide  because  he  could,  not  face  an  inquiry  into  the 
union  funds.  Strasbourg  and  the  north  are  in  an  uproar. 
He  was  considered  a  great  hero  there  and  a  pillar  of  the 
Communist  Party  in  France.  This  story  of  brothels  and 
casinos  has  absolutely  knocked  the  bottom  out  of  his 
organization,  and  they're  all  running  around  like 
scalded  cats.  At  the  moment  the  Communist  Party  is 
giving  out  that  he  was  off  his  head.  But  that  hasn't 
helped  much  after  Thorez's  breakdown  not  long  ago. 
They're  just  making  it  look  as  if  all  their  big-shots  were 
gaga.  God  knows  how  they're  going  to  unscramble  the 
whole  business.' 

Mathis  saw  that  his  enthusiasm  had  had  the  desired 
effect.  Bond's  eyes  were  brighter. 

'One  last  mystery,'  Mathis  said,  'and  then  I  promise  I 
will  go.'  He  looked  at  his  watch.  'The  doctor  will  be 
after  my  skin  in  a  moment.  Now,  what  about  the 
money?  Where  is  it?  Where  did  you  hide  it?  We  too 
have  been  over  your  room  with1  a  toothcomb.  It  isn't 
there.' 

Bond  grinned. 


130 


CASINO  ROYALE 


'It  is,'  he  said,  'more  or  less.  On  the  door  of  each 
room,  there  is  a  small  square  of  black  plastic  with  the 
number  of  the  room  on  it.  On  the  corridor  side,  of 
course.  When  Leiter  left  me  that  night,  I  simply  opened 
the  door  and  unscrewed  my  number  plate  and  put  the 
folded  cheque  underneath  it  and  screwed  the  plate  back. 
It'll  still  be  there.'  He  smiled.  'I'm  glad  there's 
something  the  stupid  English  can  teach  the  clever 
French.' 

Mathis  laughed  delightedly. 

'I  suppose  you  think  that's  paid  me  back  for  knowing 
what  the  Muntzes  were  up  to.  Well,  I'll  call  it  quits.  In- 
cidentally, we've  got  them  in  the  bag.  They  were  just 
some  minor  fry  hired  for  the  occasion.  We'll  see  that 
they  get  a  few  years. ' 

He  rose  hastily  as  the  doctor  stormed  into  the  room 
and  took  one  look  at  Bond. 

'Out,'  he  said  to  Mathis!  'Out,  and  don't  come  back.' 

Mathis  just  had  time  to  wave  cheerfully  to  Bond  and 
call  some  hasty  words  of  farewell  before  he  was  hustled 
through  the  door.  Bond  heard  a  torrent  of  heated 
French  diminishing  down  the  corridor.  He  lay  back 
exhausted,  but  heartened  by  all  he  had  heard.  He  found 
himself  thinking  of  Vesper  as  he  quickly  drifted  off  into 
a  troubled  sleep. 

There  were  still  questions  to  be  answered,  but  they 
could  wait. 


CHAPTER  20         •■  ' 

The  Nature  of  Evil 


Bond  made  good  progress.  When  Mathis  came  to 
see  him  three  days  later  he  was  propped  up  in  bed,  and 
his  arms  were  free.  The  lower  half  of  his  body  was  still 
shrouded  in  the  oblong  tent,  but  he  looked  cheerful  and 
it  was  only  occasionally  that  a  twinge  of  pain  narrowed 
his  eyes. 
Mathis  looked  crestfallen. 

'Here's  your  cheque,'  he  said  to  Bond.  'I've  rather 
enjoyed  walking  around  with  forty  million  francs  in  my 
pocket,  but  I  suppose  you'd  better  sign  it  and  I'll  put  it 
to  your  account  with  the  Credit  Lyonnais.  There's  no 
sign  of  our  friend  from  SMERSH.  Not  a  damn  trace.  He 
must  have  got  to  the  villa  on  foot  or  on  a  bicycle  because 
you  heard  nothing  of  his  arrival  and  the  two  gunmen 
obviously  didn't.  It's  pretty  exasperating.  We've  got 
precious  little  on  this  SMERSH  organization,  and  neither 
has  London.  Washington  said  they  had;  but  it  turned 
out  to  be  the  usual  waffle  from  refugee  interrogation, 
and  you  know  that's  about  as  much  good  as  in- 


131 


132  CASINO  ROYALE 

terrogating  an  English  man-in-the-street  about  his  own 
Secret  Service,  or  a  Frenchman  about  the  Deuxieme.' 

'He  probably  came  from  Leningrad  to  Berlin  via  j 
"Warsaw, '  said  Bond.  'From  Berlin. they've  got  plenty  of  j 
routes  open  to  the  rest  of  Europe.  He's  back  home  by 
now  being  told  off  for  not  shooting  me  too.  I  fancy 
they've  got  quite  a  file  on  me  in  view  of  one  or  two  of  i 
the  jobs  M.'s  given  me  since  the  war.  He  obviously  I 
thought  he  was  being  smart  enough  cutting  his  initial  in 
my  hand.' 

'What's  that?'  asked  Mathis.  'The  doctor  said  the 
cuts  looked  like  a  square  M  with  a  tail  to  the  top.  He 
said  they  didn't  mean  anything.' 

•'Well,  I  Only  got  a  glimpse  before  I  passed  out,  but 
I've  seen  the  cuts  several  times  while  they  were  being 
dressed  and  I'm  pretty  certain  they  are  the  Russian  letter 
for  SH.  It's  rather  like  an  inverted  M  with  a  tail.  That 
would  make  sense.  SMERSH  is  short  for  smyert 
SHPIONAM— Death  to  Spies— and  he  thinks  he's  labelled 
me  as  a  SHPION.  It's  a  nuisance  because  M.  will 
probably  say  I've  got  to  go  to  hospital  again  when  I  get 
back  to  London  and  have  new  skin  grafted  over  the 
whole  of  the  back  of  my  hand.  It  doesn't  matter  much. 
I've  decided  to  resign.' 

Mathis  looked  at  him  with  his  mouth  open. 

'Resign? '  he  asked  incredulously.  'What  the  hell  for? ' 

Bond  looked  away  from  Mathis.  He  studied  his  ban- 
daged hands. 

'When  I  was  being  beaten  up,'  he  said,  'I  suddenly 
liked  the  idea  of  being  alive.  Before  Le  Chiffre  began, 
he  used  a  phrase  which  stuck  in  my  mind:  "playing  Red 
Indians."  He  said  that's  what  I  had  been  doing.  Well,  I 
suddenly  thought  he  might  be  right. 

'You  see,'  he  said,  still  looking  down  at  his  bandages, 
'when  one's  young,  it  seems  very  easy  to  distinguish  be- 
tween right  and  wrong;  but  as  one  gets  older  it  becomes 
more  difficult.  At  school  it's  easy  to  pick  out  one's  own 


THE  NATURE  OF  EVIL 


133 


villains  and  heroes,  and  one  grows  up  wanting  to  be  a 
hero  and  kill  the  villains . ' 

He  looked  obstinately  at  Mathis. 

'Well,  in  the  last  few  years  I've  killed  two  villains. 
The  first  was  in  New  York — a  Japanese  cipher  expert 
cracking  our  codes  on  the  thirty-sixth  floor  of  the 
R.C.A.  Building  in  Rockefeller  Center,  where  the  Japs 
had  their  consulate.  I  took  a  room  on  the  fortieth  floor 
of  the  next-door  skyscraper,  and  I  could  look  across  the 
street  into  his  room  and  see  him  working..  Then  I  got  a 
colleague  from  our  organization  in  New  York  and  a 
couple  of  Remington  thirty-thirty's  with  telescopic 
sights  and  silencers.  We  smuggled  them  up  to  my  room 
and  sat  for  days  waiting  for  our  chance.  He  shot  at  the 
man  a  second  before  me.  His  job  was  only  to  blast  a 
hole  through  the  window  so  that  I  could  shoot  the  Jap 
through  it.  They  have  tough  windows  at  Rockefeller 
Center  to  keep  the  noise  out.  It  worked  very  well.  As  I 
expected,  his  bullet  got  deflected  by  the  glass  and  went 
God  knows  where.  But  I  shot  immediately  after  him, 
through  the  hole  he  had  made.  I  got  the  Jap  in  the 
mouth  as  he  turned  to  gape  at  the  broken  window.' 

Bond  smoked  for  a  minute. 

'It  was  a  pretty  sound  job.  Nice  and  clean  too.  Three 
hundred  yards  away.  No  personal  contact.  The  next 
time  in  Stockholm  wasn't  so  pretty.  I  had  to  kill  a  Nor- 
wegian who  was  doubling  against  us  for  the  Germans. 
He'd  managed  to  get  two  of  our  men  captured 
— probably  bumped  off  for  all  I  know.  For  various 
reasons  it  had  to  be  an  absolutely  silent  job.  I  chose  the 
bedroom  of  his  flat  and  a  knife.  And,  well,  he  just 
didn' t  die  very  quickly. 

'For  those  two  jobs  I  was  awarded  a  Double  O  num- 
ber in  the  Service.  Felt  pretty  clever  and  got  a  reputation 
for  being  good  and  tough.  A  Double  O  number  in  our 
Service  means  you've  had  to  kill  a  chap  in  cold  blood  in 
the  course  of  some  job. 


134 


CASINO  ROYALE 


'Now,'  he  looked  up  again  at  Mathis,  'that's  all  very 
fine — the  hero  kills  two  villains;  but  when  the  hero 
Le  Chiffre  starts  to  kill  the  villain  Bond  and  the  villain 
Bond  knows  he  isn't  a  villain  at  all,  you  see  the  other 
side  of  the  medal.  The  villains  and  heroes  get  all  mixed 
up. 

'Of  course,'  he  added,  as  Mathis  started  to  ex- 
postulate, 'patriotism  comes  along  and  makes  it  seem 
fairly  all  right,  but  this  country-right-or-wrong  business 
is  getting  a  little  out  of  date.  Today  we  are  fighting  com- 
munism. Okay.  If  I'd  been  alive  fifty  years  ago,  the 
brand  of  conservatism  we  have  today  would  have  been 
damn  near  called  communism,  and  we  should  have  been 
told  to  go  and  fight  that.  History  is  moving  pretty 
quickly  these  days,  and  the  heroes  and  villains  keep  on 
changing  parts.' 

Mathis  stared  at  him  aghast.  Then  he  tapped  his  head 
and  put  a  calming  hand  on  Bond's  arm. 

'You  mean  to  say  that  this  precious  Le  Chiffre  who 
did  his  best  to  turn  you  into  a  eunuch  doesn't  qualify  as 
a  villain?'  he  asked.  'Anyone  would  think  from  the  rot 
you  talk  that  he  had  been  battering  your  head  instead  of 
your  .  .  .'  he  gestured  down  the  bed.  'You  wait  till  M. 
tells  you  to  get  after  another  Le  Chiffre.  I  bet  you'll  go 
after  him  all  right.  And  what  about  SMERSH?  I  can  tell 
you  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  these  chaps  running  around 
France  killing  anyone  they  feel  has  been  a  traitor  to  their 
precious  political  system.  You're  a  bloody  anarchist.' 

He  threw  his  arms  in  the  air  and  let  them  fall 
helplessly  to  his  sides. 

Bond  laughed. 

'All  right,'  he  said.  'Take  our  friend  Le  Chiffre.  It's 
simple  enough  to  say  he  was  an  evil  man;  at  least  it's 
simple  enough  for  me,  because  he  did  evil  things  to  me. 
If  he  was  here  now,  I  wouldn't  hesitate  to  kill  him^but 
out  of  personal  revenge  and  not,  I'm  afraid,  for  some 
high  moral  reason  or  for  the  sake  of  my  country.' 

He  looked  up  at  Mathis  to  see  how  bored  he  was 


THE  NATURE  OF  EVIL 


135 


getting  with  these  introspective  refinements  of  what,  to 
Mathis,  was  a  simple  question  of  his  duty. 
Mathis  smiled  back  at  him. 

'Continue,  my  dear  friend.  It  is  interesting  for  me  to 
see  this  new  Bond.  Englishmen  are  so  odd.  They  are  like 
a  nest  of  Chinese  boxes.  It  takes  a  very  long  time  to  get 
to  the  centre  of  them.  When  one  gets  there  the  result  is 
unrewarding,  but  the  process  is  instructive  and  en- 
tertaining. Continue.  Develop  your  arguments.  There 
may  be  something  I  can  use  to  my  own  chief  the  next 
time  I  want  to  get  out  of  an  unpleasant  job.'  He  grinned 
maliciously. 

Bond  ignored  him. 

'Now  in  order  to  tell  the  difference  between  good  and 
evil,  we  have  manufactured  two  images  representing  the 
extremes — representing  the  deepest  black  and  the  purest 
white— and  we  call  them  God  and  the  Devil.  But  in 
doing  so  we  have  cheated  a  bit.  God  is  a  clear  image, 
you  can  see  every  hair  on  His  beard.  But  the  Devil. 
What  does  he  look  like?'  Bond  looked  triumphantly  at 
Mathis.  '■ 

Mathis  laughed  ironically. 

'A  woman.' 

'It's  all  very  fine,'  said  Bond;  'but  I've  been  thinking 
about  these  things,  and  I'm  wondering  whose  side  I 
ought  to  be  on.  I'm  getting  very  sorry  for  the  Devil  and 
Ms  disciples,  such  as  the  good  Le  Chiffre.  The  Devil  has 
a  rotten  time,  and  I  always  like  to  be  on  the  side  of  the 
underdog.  We  don't  give  the  poor  chap  a  chance. 
There's  a  Good  Book  about  goodness  and  how  to  be 
good  and  so  forth,  but  there's  no  Evil  Book  about  evil 
and  how  to  be  bad.  The  Devil  had  no  prophets  to  write 
his  Ten  Commandments,  and  no  team  of  authors  to 
write  his  biography.  His  case  has  gone  completely  by 
default.  We  know  nothing  about  him  but  a  lot  of  fairy 
..  stories  from  our  parents  and  schoolmasters.  He  has  no 
book  from  which  we  can  learn  the  nature  of  evil  in  all  its 
forms,  with  parables  about  evil  people,  proverbs  about 


136 


CASINO  ROYALE 


evil  people,  folklore  about  evil  people.  All  we  have  is  the 
living  example  of  the  people  who  are  least  good,  or  our 
own  intuition. 

'So,'  continued  Bond,  warming  to  his  argument,  'Le 
Chiffre  was  serving  a  wonderful  purpose,  a  really  vital 
purpose,  perhaps  the  best  and  highest  purpose  of  all.  By 
his  evil  existence,  which  foolishly  I  have  helped  to 
destroy,  he  was  creating  a  norm  of  badness  by  which, 
and  by  which  alone,  an  opposite  norm  of  goodness 
could  exist.  We  were  privileged,  in  our  short  knowledge 
of  him,  to  see  and  estimate  his  wickedness,  and  we 
emerge  from  the  acquaintanceship  better  and  more  vir- 
tuous men.' 

'Bravo,'  said  Mathis.  'I'm  proud  of  you.  You  ought 
to  be  tortured  every  day.  I  really  must  remember  to  do 
something  evil  this  evening.  I  must  start  at  once.  I  have 
a  few  marks  in  my  favour — only  small  ones,  alas,'  he 
added  ruefully;  'but  I  shall  work  fast  now  that  I  have 
seen  the  light.  What  a  splendid  time  I'm  going  to  have! 
Now,  let's  see,  where  shall  I  start — murder,  arson, 
rape?  But  no,  these  are  peccadilloes.  I  must  really  con- 
sult the  good  Marquis  de  Sade.  I  am  a  child,  an  absolute 
child  in  these  matters.' 

His  face  fell. 

'Ah,  but  our  conscience,  my  dear  Bond.  What  shall 
we  do  with  him  while  we  are  committing  some  juicy  sin? 
That  is  a  problem.  He  is  a  crafty  person  this  conscience 
and  very  old,  as  old  as  the  first  family  of  apes  which 
gave  birth  to  him.  We  must  give  that  problem  really 
careful  thought,  or  we  shall  spoil  our  enjoyment.  Of 
course,  we  should  murder  him  first,  but  he  is  a  tough 
bird.  It  will  be  difficult,  but  if  we  succeed  we  could  be 
worse  even  than  Le  Chiffre. 

'For  you,  dear  James,  it  is  easy.  You  can  start  off  by 
resigning.  That  was  a  brilliant  thought  of  yours,  a  splen- 
did start  to  your  new  career.  And  so  simple.  Everyone 
has  the  revolver  of  resignation  in  his  pocket.  All  you've 
got  to  do  is  pull  the  trigger,  and  you  will  have  made  a 


THE  NATURE  OF  EVIL 


137 


big  hole  in  your  country  and  your  conscience  at  the 
same  time.  A  murder  and  a  suicide  with  one  bullet! 
Splendid.  What  a  difficult  and  glorious  profession!  As 
for  me,  I  must  start  embracing  the  new  cause  at  once.' 
He  looked  at  his  watch. 

'Good.  I've  started  already.  I'm  half  an  hour  late  for 
a  meeting  with  the  chief  of  police. ' 
He  rose  to  his  feet,  laughing. 

'That  was  most  enjoyable,  my  dear  James.  You  really 
ought  to  go  on  the  halls.  Now  about  that  little  problem 
of  yours,  this  business  of  not  knowing  good  men  from 
bad  men  and  villains  from  heroes,  and  so  forth.  It  is,  of 
course,  a  difficult  problem  in  the  abstract.  The  secret 
lies  in  personal  experience,  whether  you're  a  Chinaman 
or  an  Englishman.' 

He  paused  at  the  door. 

'You  admit  that  Le  Chiffre  did  you  personal  evil,  and 
that  you  would  kill  him  if  he  appeared  in  front  of  you 
now? 

'Well,  when  you  get  back  to  London  you  will  find 
there  are  other  Le  Chiffres  seeking  to  destroy  you  and 
your  friends  and  your  country.  M.  will  tell  you  about 
them.  And  now  that  you  have  seen  a  really  evil  man  you 
will  know  how  evil  they  can  be,  and  you  will  go  after 
them  to  destroy  them  in  order  to  protect  yourself  and 
the  people  you  love.  You  won't  wait  or  argue  about  it. 
You  know  what  they  look  like  now  and  what  they  can 
do  to  people.  You  may  be  a  bit  more  choosy  about  the 
jobs  you  fake  on.  You  may  want  to  be  certain  that  the 
target  really  is  black;  but  there  are  plenty  of  really  black 
targets  around.  There's  still  plenty  for  you  to  do.  And 
you'll  do  it.  And  when  you  fall  in  love  and  have  a 
mistress  or  a  wife  and  children  to  look  after,  it  will  seem 
all  the  easier.' 

Mathis  opened  the  door  and  stopped  on  the 
threshold. 

'Surround  yourself  with  human  beings,  my  dear 
James.  They  are  easier  to  fight  for  than  principles. ' 


138 


CASINO  ROYALE 


He  laughed.  'But  don't  let  me  down  and  become 
human  yourself.  We  would  lose  such  a  wonderful 
machine.' 

With  a  wave  of  the  hand  he  shut  the  door. 
'Hey,  '  shouted  Bond. 

But  the  footsteps  went  quickly  off  down  the  passage. 


CHAPTER  21 


Vesper 


It  was  on  the  next  day  that  Bond  asked  to  see 
Vesper. 

He  had  not  wanted  to  see  her  before.  He  was  told  that 
every  day  she  came  to  the  nursing  home  and  asked  after 
him.  Flowers  had  arrived  from  her.  Bond  didn't  like 
flowers,  and  he  told  the  nurse  to  give  them  to  another 
patient.  After  this  had  happened  twice,  no  more  flowers 
came.  Bond  had  not  meant  to  offend  her.  He  disliked 
having  feminine  things  around  him.  Flowers  seemed  to 
ask  for  recognition  of  the  person  who  had  sent  them,  to 
be  constantly  transmitting  a  message  of  sympathy  and 
affection.  Bond  found  this  irksome.  He  disliked  being 
cosseted.  It  gave  him  claustrophobia. 

Bond  was  bored  at  the  idea  of  having  to  explain  some 
of  this  to  Vesper.  And  he  was  embarrassed  at  having  to 
ask  one  or  two  questions  which  mystified  him,  questions 
about  Vesper's  behaviour.  The  answers  would  almost 
certainly  make  her  out  to  be  a  fool.  Then  he  had  his  full 
report  to  M.  to  think  about.  In  this  he  didn't  want  to 


139 


140 


CASINO  ROYALE 


have  to  criticize  Vesper.  It  might  easily  cost  her  her  job. 

But  above  all,  he  admitted  to  himself,  he  shirked  the 
answer  to  a  more  painful  question. 

The  doctor  had  talked  often  to  Bond  about  his  in- 
juries. He  had  always  told  him  that  there  would  be  no 
evil  effects  from  the  terrible  battering  his  body  had 
received.  He  had  said  that  Bond's  full  health  would 
return,  and  that  none  of  his  powers  had  been  taken 
from  him.  But  the  evidence  of  Bond's  eyes  and  his 
nerves  refused  these  comforting  assurances.  He  was  still 
painfully  swollen  and  bruised,  and  whenever  the  in- 
jections wore  off  he  was  in  agony.  Above  all,  his 
imagination  had  suffered.  For  an  hour  in  that  room 
with  Le  Chiffre  the  certainty  of  impotence  had  been 
beaten  into  him;  and  a  scar  had  been  left  on  his  mind 
that  could  only  be  healed  by  experience. 

From  the  day  when  Bond  first  met  Vesper  in  the  Her- 
mitage bar,  he  had  found  her  desirable;  and  he  knew 
that  if  things  had  been  different  in  the  night  club,  if 
Vesper  had  responded  in  any  way  and  if  there  had  been 
no  kidnapping,  he  would  have  tried  to  sleep  with  her 
that  night.  Even  later,  in  the  car  and  outside  the  villa 
when  he  had  had  other  things  to  think  about,  his 
eroticism  had  been  hotly  aroused  by  the  sight  of  her  in- 
decent nakedness. 

And  now,  when  he  could  see  her  again,  he  was  afraid. 
Afraid  that  his  senses  and  his  body  would  not  respond 
to  her  sensual  beauty.  Afraid  that  he  would  feel  no  stir 
of  desire,  and  that  his  blood  would  stay  cool.  In  his 
mind  he  had  made  this  first  meeting  into  a  test,  and  he 
was  shirking  the  answer.  That  was  the  real  reason,  he 
admitted,  why  he  had  waited  to  give  his  body  a  chance 
to  respond,  why  he  had  put  off  .  their  first  meeting  for 
over  a  week.  He  would  have  liked  to  put  off  the  meeting 
still  further,  but  he  explained  to  himself  that  his  report 
must  be  written,  that  any  day  an  emissary  from  London 
would  come  over  and  want  to  hear  the  full  story,  that 


VESPER 


141 


today  was  as  good  as  tomorrow,  that  anyway  he  might 
as  well  know  the  worst. 

So  on  the  eighth  day  he  asked  for  her,  for  the  early 
morning  when  he  was  feeling  refreshed  and  strong  after 
the  night's  rest. 

For  no  reason  at  all,  he  had  expected  that  she  would 
show  some  sign  of  her  experiences,  that  she  would  look 
pale  and  even  ill.  He  was  not  prepared  for  the  tall 
bronzed  girl  in  a  cream  tussore  frock  with  a  black  belt 
who  came  happily  through  the  door  and  stood  smiling 
at  him. 

-Good  heavens,  Vesper/  he  said  with  a  wry  gesture  of 
welcome,  'you  look  absolutely  splendid.  You  must 
thrive  on  disaster.  How  have  you  managed  to  get  such  a 
wonderful  sunburn? ' 

'I  feel  very  guilty,'  she  said  sitting  down  beside  him. 
'But  I've  been  bathing  every  day  while  you've  been  lying 
here.  The  doctor  said  I  was  to  and  Head  of  S.  said  I  was 
to;  so— well,  I  just  thought  it  wouldn't  help  you  for  me 
to  be  moping  away  all  day  long  in  my  room.  I've  found 
a  wonderful  stretch  of  sand  down  the  coast,  and  I  take 
my  lunch  and  go  there  every  day  with  a  book,  and  I 
don't  come  back  till  the  evening.  There's  a  bus  that 
takes  me  there  and  back  with  only  a  short  walk  over  the 
dunes,  and  I've  managed  to  get  over  the  fact  that  it's  on 
the  way  down  that  road  to  the  villa. ' 

Her  voice  faltered. 

The  mention  of  the  villa  had  made  Bond's  eyes 
flicker. 

She  continued  bravely,  refusing  to  be  defeated  by 
Bond's  lack  of  response. 

'The  doctor  says  it  won't  be  long  before  you're 
allowed  up.  I  thought  perhaps  ...  I  thought  perhaps  I 
could  take  you  down  to  this  beach  later  on.  The  doctor 
says  that  bathing  would  be  very  good  for  you. ' 

Bond  grunted. 

'God  knows  when  I'll  be  able  to  bathe,'  he  said.  'The 


142  CASINO  ROYALE 

doctor's  talking  through  his  hat.  And  when  I  can  bathe 
it  would  probably  be  better  for  me  to  bathe  alone  for  a 
bit.  I  don't  want  to  frighten  anybody.  Apart  from 
anything  else/  he  glanced  pointedly  down  the  bed,  'my 
body's  a  mass  of  scars  and  bruises.  But  you  enjoy  your- 
self. There's  no  reason  why  you  shouldn't  enjoy  your- 
self.' 

Vesper  was  stung  by  the  bitterness  and  injustice  in  his 
voice. 

'I'm  sorry,'  she  said.  'I  just  thought  ...  I  was  just 
trying . . .' 

Suddenly  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  swallowed. 

'I  wanted  ...  I  wanted  to  help  you  get  well.' 

Her  voice  strangled.  She  looked  piteously  at  him, 
facing  the  accusation  in  his  eyes  and  in  his  manner. 
■  Then  she  broke  down  and  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands  and  sobbed. 

'I'm  sorry,'  she  said  in  a  muffled  voice.  'I'm  really 
sorry.'  With  one  hand  she  searched  for  a  handkerchief, 
in  her  bag.  'It's  all  my  fault,'  she  dabbed  at  her  eyes.  'I 
know  it's  all  my  fault. ' 

Bond  at  once  relented.  He  put  out  a  bandaged  hand 
and  laid  it  on  her  knee. 

'It's  all  right,  Vesper.  I'm  sorry  I  was  so  rough.  It's 
just  that  I  was  jealous  of  you  in  the  sunshine  while  I'm 
stuck  here.  Directly  I'm  well  enough  I'll  come  with  you, 
and  you  must  show  me  your  beach.  Of  course  it's  just 
what  I  want.  It'll  be  wonderful  to  get  out  again.' 

She  pressed  his  hand  and  stood  up  and  walked  over  to 
the  window.  After  a  moment  she  busied  herself  with  her 
makeup.  Then  she  came  back  to  the  bed. 

Bond  looked  at  her  tenderly.  Like  all  harsh,  cold 
men,  he  was  easily  tipped  over  into  sentiment.  She  was 
very  beautiful,  and  he  felt  warm  towards  her.  He 
decided  to  make  his  questions  as  easy  as  possible. 

He  gave  her  a  cigarette,  and  for  a  time  they  talked  of 
the  visit  of  Head  of  S.  and  of  the  reactions  in  London  to 
the  rout  of  LeChiffre.  ; 


VESPER 


143 


From  what  she  said  it  was  clear  that  the  final  object  of 
the  plan  had  been  more  than  fulfilled.  The  story  was 
still  being  splashed  all  over  the  world,  and  correspon- 
dents of  most  of  the  English  and  American  papers  had 
been  at  Royale  trying  to  trace  the  Jamaican  millionaire 
who  had  defeated  Le  Chiffre  at  the  tables.  They  had  got 
on  to  Vesper,  but  she  had  covered  up  well.  Her  story 
was  that  Bond  had  told  her  he  was  going  on  to  Cannes 
and  Monte  Carlo  to  gamble'with  his  winnings.  The  hunt 
had  moved  down  to  the  South  of  France.  Mathis  and 
the  police  had  obliterated  all  other  traces,  and  the 
papers  were  forced  to  concentrate  on  the  Strasbourg 
angles  and  the  chaos  in  the  ranks  of  the  French  com- 
munists. 

'By  the  way,  Vesper,'  said  Bond  after  a  time,  'what 
really  happened \to  you  after  you  left  me  in  the  night 
club?  All  I  saw  was  the  actual  kidnapping.'  He  told  her 
briefly  of  the  scene  outside  the  Casino. 

'I'm  afraid  I  must  have  lost  my  head,'  said  Vesper, 
avoiding  Bond's  eyes.  'When  I  couldn't  see  Mathis 
anywhere  in  the  entrance  hall  I  went  outside,  and  the 
commissionaire  asked  me  if  I  was  Miss  Lynd,  and  then 
told  me  the  man  who  had  sent  in  the  note  was  waiting  in 
a  car  down  on  the  right  of  the  steps.  Somehow  I  wasn't 
particularly  surprised.  I'd  only  known  Mathis  for  a  day 
or  two,  and  I  didn't  know  how  he  worked,  so  I  just 
walked  down  towards  the  car.  It  was  away  on  the  right 
and  more  or  less  in  the  shadows.  Just  as  I  was  coming 
up  to  it,  Le  Chiffre's  two  men  jumped  out  from  behind 
one  of  the  other  cars  in  the  row  and  simply  scooped  my 
skirt  over  my  head. ' 

Vesper  blushed. 

'It  sounds  a  childish  trick,'. she  looked  penitently  at 
Bond,  'but  it's  really  frightfully  effective.  One's  a  com- 
plete prisoner  and  although  I  screamed  I  don't  expect 
any  sound  came  out  from  under  my  skirt.  I  kicked  out 
as  hard  as  I  could;  but  that  was  no  use,  as  I  couldn't  see, 
and  my  arms  were  absolutely  helpless.  I  was  just  a 


144 


CASINO  ROYALE 


trussed  chicken.  They  picked  me  up  between  them  and 
shoved  me  into  the  back  of  the  car.  I  went  on  struggling, 
of  course,  and  when  thenar  started  and  while  they  were 
trying  to  tie  a  rope  or  something  around  the  top  of  my 
skirt  over  my  head,  I  managed  to  get  an  arm  free  and 
throw  my  bag  through  the  window.  I  hope  it  was  some 
use.' 
Bond  nodded. 

'It  was  really  instinctive.  I  just  thought  you'd  have  no 
idea  what  had  happened  to  me,  and  I  was  terrified.  I  did 
the  first  thing  I  could  think  of.' 

Bond  knew  that  it  was  him  they  had  been  after  and 
that,  if  Vesper  hadn't  thrown  her  bag  out,  they  would 
probably  have  thrown  it  out  themselves  directly  they 
saw  him  appear  on  the  steps.  , 

'It  certainly  helped,'  said  Bond.  'But  why  didn't  you 
make  any  sign  when  they  finally  got  me  after,  the"  car 
smash,  when  I  spoke  to  you?  I  was  dreadfully  worried.  I 
thought  they  might  have  knocked  you  out  or 
something,' 

'I'm  afraid  I  must  have  been  unconscious,'  said 
Vesper.1  'I  fainted  once  from  lack  of  air,  and  when  I 
came  to  they  had  cut  a  hole  in  front  of  my  face.  I  must 
have  fainted  again.  I  don't  remember  much  until  we  got 
to  the  villa.  I  really  only  gathered  you  had  been  captured 
when  I  heard  you  try  and  come  after  me  in  the  passage. ' 

'And  they  didn't  touch  you?'  asked.  Bond.  'They 
didn't  try  and  mess  about  with  you  while  I  was  being 
beaten  up?' 

'No,'  said  Vesper.  'They  just  left  me  in  an  armchair. 
They  drank  and  played  cards— belotte,  I  think  it  was 
from  what  I  heard — and  then  they  went  to  sleep.  I  sup- 
pose that  was  how  SMERSH  got  them.  They  bound  my 
legs  and  put  me  on  a  chair  in  a  corner  facing  the  wall, 
and  I  saw  nothing  of  SMERSH.  I  heard  some  odd  noises. 
I  expect  they  woke  me  up.  And  then  what  sounded  like 
one  of  them  falling  off  his  chair.  Then  there  were  some 
soft  footsteps,  and  a  door  closed;  and  then  nothing  hap- 


VESPER 


145 


pened  until  Mathis  and  the  police  burst  in  hours  later.  I 
slept  most  of  the  time.  I  had  no  idea  what  had  happened 
to  you,  but'— she  faltered— 'I  did  once  hear  a  terrible 
scream.  It  sounded  very  far  away.  At  least,  I  think  it 
must  have  been  a  scream.  At  the  time  I  thought  it  might 
have  been  a  nightmare.' 

.■'I'm  afraid  that  must  have  been  me,'  said  Bond. 

Vesper,  put  out  a  hand  and  touched  one  of  his.  Her 
eyes  filled  with  tears. 

'It's  horrible,'  she  said.  'The  things  they  did  to  you. 
And  it  was  all  my  fault.  If  only . .  . ' 

She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 

'That's  all  right,'  said  Bond  comfortingly.  'It's  no 
good  crying  over  spilt  milk.  It's  all  over  now,  and  thank 
heavens  they  let  you  alone:'  He  patted  her  knee.  'They 
were  going  to  start  on  you  when  they'd  got  me  really 
softened  up.  We've  got  a  lot  to  thank  SMERSH  for.  Now, 
come  on,  let's  forget  about  it.  It  certainly  wasn't 
anything  to  do  with  you.  Anybody  could  have  fallen  for 
that  note.  Anyway,  it*s  all  water  over  the  dam,'  he 
added  cheerfully. 

Vesper  looked  at  him  gratefully  through  her  tears. 
'You  really  promise?'  she  asked.  'I  thought  you  would 
never  forgive  me.  I  .  .  .  I'll  try  and  make  it  up  to  you. 
Somehow.'  She  looked  at  him. 

Somehow?  thought  Bond  to  himself.  He  looked  at 
her.  She  was  smiling  at  him.  He  smiled  back, 

'You'd  better  look  out,'  he  said.  'I  may  hold  you  to 
that.'' 

She  looked  into  his  eyes  and  said  nothing,  but  the 
enigmatic  challenge  was  back.  She  pressed  his  hand  and 
rose.  'A  promise  is  a  promise,'  she  said. 

This  time  they  both  knew  what  the  promise  was. 

She  picked  up  her  bag  from  the  bed  and  walked  to  the 
door.  • 

'Shall  I  come  tomorrow??  She  looked  at  Bond 
gravely. 

'Yes,  please,  Vesper,'  said  Bond.  'I'd  like  that.  Please 


146 


CASINO  ROYALE 


do  some  more  exploring.  It  will  be  fun  to  think  of  what 
we  can  do  when  I  get  up.  Will  you  think  of  some 
things?' 

'Yes,'  said  Vesper.  'Please  get  well  quickly.' 

They  gazed  at  each  other  for  a  second.  Then  she  went 
out  and  closed  the  door,  and  Bond  listened  until  the 
sound  of  her  footsteps  had  died  away. 


CHAPTER  22 

The  Hastening  Saloon 


From  that  day  Bond' s  recovery  was  rapid . 

He  sat  up  in  bed  and  wrote  his  report  to  M.  He  made 
light  of  what  he  still  considered  amateurish  behaviour 
on  the  part  of  Vesper.  By  juggling  with  the  emphasis,  he 
made  the  kidnapping  sound  much  more  Machiavellian 
than  it  had  been.  He  praised  Vesper's  coolness  and  com- 
posure throughout  the  whole  episode  without  saying  „ 
that  he  had  found  some  of  her  actions  unaccountable. 

Every  day  Vesper  came  to  see  him,  and  he  looked  for- 
ward to  these  visits  with  excitement.  She  talked  happily 
of  her  adventures  of  the  day  before,  her  explorations 
down  the  coast,  and  the  restaurants  where  she  had 
eaten.  She  had  made  friends  with  the  chief  of  police  and 
with  one  of  the  directors  of  the  Casino,  and  it  was  they 
who  took  her  out  in  the  evening  and  occasionally  lent 
her  a  car  during  the  day.  She  kept  an  eye  on  the  repairs 
to  the  Bentley  which  had  been  towed  down  to  coach- 
builders  at  Rouen,  and  she  even  arranged  for  some  new 
clothes  to  be  sent  out  from  Bond's  London  flat. 


147 


148 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Nothing  survived  from  his  original  wardrobe.  Every 
stitch  had  been  cut  to  ribbons  in  the  search  for  the  forty 
million  francs. 

The  Le  Chiffre  affair  was  never  mentioned  between 
them.  She  occasionally  told  Bond  amusing  stories  of 
Head  of  S.'s  office.  She  had  apparently  transferred 
there  from  the  W.R.N. S.  And  he  told  her  of  some  of  his 
adventures  in  the  Service. 

He  found  he  could  speak  to  her  easily,  and  he  was 
surprised. 

With  most  women  his  manner  was  a  mixture  of 
taciturnity  and  passion.  The  lengthy  approaches  to  a 
seduction  bored  him  almost  as  much  as  the  subsequent 
mess  of  disentanglement.  He  found  something  grisly  in 
the  inevitability  of  the  pattern  of  each  affair.  The  con- 
ventional parabola — sentiment,  the  touch  of  the  hand, 
the  kiss,  the  passionate  kiss,  the  feel  of  the  body,  the 
climax  in  the  bed,  then  more  bed,  then  less  bed,  then  the 
boredom,  the  tears,  and  the  final  bitterness— was  to  him 
shameful  and  hypocritical.  Even  more  he  shunned  the 
mise-en-scene  for  each  of  these  acts  in  the  play — the 
meeting  at  a  party,  the  restaurant,  the  taxi,  his  flat,  her 
flat,  then  the  week-end  by  the  sea,  then  the  flats  again, 
then  the  furtive  alibis  and  the  final  angry  farewell  on 
some  doorstep  in  the  rain. 

But  with  Vesper  there  could  be  none  of  this. 

In  the  dull  room  and  the  boredom  of  his  treatment 
her  presence  was  each  day  an  oasis  of  pleasure, 
something  to  look  forward  to.  In  their  talk  there  was 
nothing  but  companionship  with  a  distant  undertone  of 
passion.  In  the  background  there  was  the  unspoken  zest 
of  the  promise  which,  in  due  course  and  in  their  own 
time,  would  be  met.  Over  all  there  brooded  the  shadow 
of  his  injuries  and  the  tantalus  of  their  slow  healing. 

Whether  Bond  liked  it  or  not,  the  branch  had  already 
escaped  his  knife  and  was  ready  to  burst  into  flower. 

With  enjoyable  steps  Bond  recovered.  He  was 
allowed  up.  Then  he  was  allowed  to  sit  in  the  garden. 


THE  HASTENING  SALOON 


149 


Then  he  could  go  for  a  short  walk,  then  for  a  long  drive. 
And  then  the  afternoon  came  when  the  doctor  appeared 
on  a  flying  visit  from  Paris  and  pronounced  him  well 
again.  His  clothes  were  brought  round  by  Vesper, 
farewells  were  exchanged  with  the  nurses,  and  a  hired 
car  drove  them  away. 

It  was  three  weeks  from  the  day  when  he  had  been  on 
the  edge  of  death,  and  how  it  was  July  and  the  hot 
summer  shimmered  down  the  coast  and  out  at  sea.  Bond 
clasped  the  moment  to  him. 

Their  destination  was  to  be  a  surprise  for  him.  He  had 
not  wanted  to  go  back  to  one  of  the  big  hotels  in  Royale, 
and  Vesper  said  she  would  find  somewhere  away  from 
the  town.  But  she  insisted  on  being  mysterious  about  it 
and  only  said  that  she  had  found  a  place  he  would  like. 
He  was  happy  to  be  in  her  hands,  but  he  covered  up  his 
surrender  by  referring  to  their  destination  as  'Trou  sur 
Mer'  (she  admitted  it  was  by  the  sea),  and  lauding  the 
rustic  delights  of  outside  lavatories,  bedbugs,  and 
cockroaches. 

Their  drive  was  spoiled  by  a  curious  incident. 

While  they  followed  the  coast-road  in  the  direction  of 
Les  Noctambules,  Bond  described  to  her  his  wild  chase 
in  the  Bentley,  finally  pointing  out  the  curve  he  had 
taken  before  the  crash  and  the  exact  place  where  the 
vicious  carpet  of  spikes  had  been  laid.  He  slowed  the  car 
down  and  leant  out  to  show  her  the  deep  cuts  in, the  tar- 
mac made  by  the  rims  of  the  wheels  and  the  broken 
branches  in  the  hedge  and  the  patch  of  oil  where  the  car 
had  come  to  rest. 

But  all  the  time  she  was  distrait  and  fidgety  and  com- 
mented only  in  monosyllables.  Once  or  twice  he  caught 
her  glancing  in  the  driving-mirror;  but  when  he  had  a 
chartce  to  look  back  through  the  rear  window  they  had 
just  rounded  a  bend,  and  he  could  see  nothing. 

Finally  he  took  her  hand. - 

'Something's  on  your  mind,  Vesper,'  he  said.  ' 
She  gave  him  a  taut,  bright  smile.  'It's  nothing.  Ab- 


150 


CASINO  ROYALE 


solutely  nothing.  I  had  a  silly  idea  We  were  being' 
followed.  It's  just  nerves,  I  suppose.  This  road  is  full  of 
ghosts.' 

Under  cover  of  a  short  laugh  she  looked  back  again. 

'Look. '  There  was  an  edge  of  panic  in  her  voice. 

Obediently  Bond  turned  his  head.  Sure  enough,  a  " 
quarter  of  a  mile  away,  a  black  saloon  was  coming  after  ' 
them  at  a  good  pace. 

Bond  laughed. 

'We  can't  be  the  only  people  using  this  road,'  he  said. 
'Anyway,  who  wants  to  follow  us?  We've  done  nothing 
wrong.'  He  patted  her  hand.  'It's  a  middle-aged  com- 
mercial traveller  in  car-polish  on  his  way  to  Le  Havre. 
He's  probably  thinking  of  his  lunch  and  his  mistress  in 
Paris.  Really,  Vesper,  you  mustn't  think  evil  of  the  in- 
nocent.' 

'I  expect  you're  right,'  she  said  nervously.  'Anyway, 
we're  nearly  there.' 

She  relapsed  into  silence  and  gazed  out  of  the 
window. 

Bond  could  still  feel  her  tenseness.  He  smiled  to  him- 
self at  what  he  took  to  be  simply  a  hangover  from  their 
recent  adventures.  But  he  decided  to  humour  her,  and 
when  they  came  to  a  small  lane  leading  towards  the  sea 
and  slowed  to  turn  down  it,  he  told  the  driver  to  stop 
directly  they  were  off  the  main  road. 

Hidden  by  the  tall  hedge,  they  watched  together 
through  the  rear  window. 

Through  the  quiet  hum  of  summer  noises  they  could 
hear  the  car  approaching.  Vesper  dug  her  fingers  into 
his  arm.  The  pace  of  the  car  did  not  alter  as  it  ap- 
proached their  hiding-place  and  they  had  only  a  brief 
glimpse  of  a  man's  profile  as  a  black  saloon  tore  by. 

It  was  true  that  he  seemed  to  glance  quickly  towards 
them,  but  above  them  in  the  hedge  there  was  a  gaily 
painted  sign  point  down  the  lane  announcing 
'L'Auberge  du  Fruit  Defendu,  crustaces,  fritures.'  It 


THE  HASTENING  SALOON 


151 


was  obvious  to  Bond  that  it  was  this  that  had  caught  the 
driver's  eye.  ^ 

As  the  rattle  of  the  car's  exhaust  diminished  down  the 
road,  Vesper  sank  back  into  her  corner.  Her  face  was 
pale. 

'He  looked  at  us,'  she  said.  'I  told  you  so.  I  knew  we 
were  being  followed.  Now  they  know  where  we  are.' 

Bond  could  not  contain  his  impatience.  'Bunkum, '  he 
said.  'He  was  looking  at  that  sign.'  He  pointed  it  out  to 
Vesper. 

She  looked  slightly  relieved.  'Do  you  really  think  so?' 
she  asked.  'Yes.  I  see.  Of  course,  you  must  be  right. 
Come  on.  I'm  sorry  to  be  so  stupid.  I  don't  know  what 
came  over  me.' 

She  leant  forward  and  talked  to  the  driver  through  the 
partition,  and  the  car  moved  on.  She  sank  back  and 
turned  a  bright  face  towards  Bond.  The  colour  had 
almost  come  back  to  her  cheeks.  'I  really  am  sorry.  It's 
just  that — it's  that  I  can't  believe  everything's  over  and 
there's  no  one  to  be  frightened  of  any  more.'  She 
pressed  his  hand.  'You  must  think  me  very  stupid.' 

'Of  course  not,'  said  Bond.  'But  really  nobody  could 
be  interested  in  us  now.  Forget  it  all.  The  whole  job's 
finished,  wiped  up.  This  is  our  holiday,  and  there's  not 
a  cloud  in  the  sky.  Is  there? '  he  persisted. 

'No,  of  course  not.'  She  shook  herself  slightly.  'I'm 
mad.  Now  we'll  be  there  in  a  second.  I  do  hope  you're 
going  to  like  it.' 

They  both  leant  forward.  Animation  was  back  in  her 
face,  and  the  incident  left  only  the  smallest  question 
mark  hanging  in  the  air.  Even  that  faded  as  they  came 
through  the  dunes  and  saw  the  sea  and  the  modest  little 
inn  amongst  the  pines. 

'It's  not  very  grand,  I'm  afraid,'  said  Vesper.  ;But  it's 
very  clean,  and  the  food's  wonderful.'  She  looked  at 
him  anxiously.  - 

She  need  not  have  worried.  Bond  loved  the  place  at 


152 


CASINO  ROYALE 


first  sight — the  terrace  leading  almost  to  the  high-tide 
mark,  the  low  two-storied  house  With  gay  brick-red 
awnings  over  the  windows,  and  the  crescent-shaped  bay 
of  blue  water  and  golden  sand.  How  many  times  in  his 
life  would  he  have  given  anything  to  have  turned  off  a 
main  road  to  find  a  lost  corner  like  this  where  he  could 
let  the  world  go  by  and  live  in  the  sea  from  dawn  to 
dusk!  And  now  he  was  to  have  a  whole  week  of  this. 
And  of  Vesper.  In  his  mind  he  fingered  the  necklace  of 
the  days  to  come. 

They  drew  up  in  the  courtyard  behind  the  house,  and 
the  proprietor  and  his  wife  came  out  to  greet  them. 

Monsieur  Versoix  was  a  middle-aged  man  with  one 
arm.  The  other  he  had  lost  fighting  with  the  Free  French 
in  Madagascar.  He  was  a  friend  of  the  chief  of  police  of 
Royale,  and  it  was  the  Commissaire  who  had  suggested 
the  place  to  Vesper  and  had  spoken  to  the  proprietor  on 
the  telephone.  As  a  result,  nothing  was  going  to  be  too 
good  for  them. 

Madame  Versoix  had  been  interrupted  in  the  middle 
of  preparing  dinner.  She  wore  an  apron  and  held  a 
wooden  spoon  in  one  hand.  She  was  younger  than  her 
husband,  chubby  and  handsome  and  warm-eyed.  In- 
stinctively Bond  guessed  that  they  had  no  children  and 
that  they  gave  their  thwarted  affection  to  their  friends 
and  some  regular  customers,  and  probably  to  some  pets. 
He  thought  that  their  life  was  probably  something  of  a 
struggle,  and  that  the  inn  must  be  very  lonely  in  win- 
tertime with  the  big  seas  and  the  noise  of  the  wind  in  the 
pines. 

The  proprietor  showed  them  to  their  rooms. 

Vesper's  was  a  double  room,  and  Bond  was  next 
door,  at  the  corner  of  the  house,  with  one  window 
looking  out  to  sea  and  another  with  a  view  of  the  distant 
arm  of  the  bay.  There  was  a  bathroom  between  them. 
Everything  was  spotless,  and  sparsely  comfortable. 

The  proprietor  was  pleased  when  they  both  showed 
their  delight.  He  said  that  dinner  would  be  at  seven- 


THE  HASTENING  SALOON 


153 


thirty  and  that  Madame  la  patrOnne  was  preparing 
broiled  lobsters  with  melted  butter.  He  was  sorry  that 
they  were  so  quiet  just  then.  It  was  Tuesday.  There 
would  be  more  people  at  the  week-end.  The  season  had 
not  been  good.  Generally  they  had  plenty  of  English 
people  staying,  but  times  were  difficult  over  there  and 
the  English  just  came  for  a  week-end  at  Royale  and  then 
went  home  after  losing  their  money  at  the  Casino.  It  was 
not  like  the  old  days.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders 
philosophically.  But  then  no  day  was  like  the  day 
before,  and  no  century  like  the  previous  one,  and  .  . . 
'Quite  so, '  said  Bond. 


CHAPTER  23 

Tide  of  Passion 


They  were  talking  on  the  threshold  of  Vesper's 
room.  When  the  proprietor  left  them,  Bond  pushed  her 
inside  and  closed  the  door.  Then  he  put  his  hands  on  her 
shoulders  and  kissed  her  on  both  cheeks. 
'This  is  heaven, '  he  said. 

Then  he  saw  that  her  eyes  were  shining.  Her  hands 
came  up  and  rested  on  his  forearms.  He  stepped  right  up 
against  her,  and  his  arms  dropped  round  her  waist.  Her 
head  went  back,  and  her  mouth  opened  beneath  his. 

'My  darling,'  he  said.  He  plunged  his  mouth  down 
onto  hers  and  felt  her  respond,  shyly  at  first,  then  more 
passionately.  His  hand  slipped  down  her  back  and 
pressed  her  body  fiercely  to  his.  Panting,  she  slipped  her 
mouth  away  and  they  clung  together;  he  brushed  her  ear 
with  his  lips  and  felt  the  firm  warmth  of  her  breasts 
against  him.  Then  he  reached  up  and  seized  her  hair  and 
bent  her  head  back  until  he  could  kiss  her  again.  She 
pushed  him  away  and  sank  back  exhausted  on  to  the 
bed.  For  a  moment  they  looked  at  each  other  hungrily. 


154 


TIDE  OF  PASSION 


155 


'I'm  sorry,  Vesper,'  he  said.  'I  didn't  mean  to  then.' 
•  She  shook  her  head,  dumb  with  the  storm  which  had 
passed  through  her. 

He  came  and  sat  beside  her,  and  they  looked  at  each 
other  with  lingering  tenderness  as  the  tide  of  passion 
ebbed  in  their  veins. 

She  leant  over  and  kissed  him  on  the  corner  of  the 
mouth,  then  she  brushed  the  black  comma  of  hair  back 
from  his  damp  forehead.  , 

'My  darling,'  she  said.  'Give  me  a  cigarette.  I  don't 
know  where  my  bag  is.'  She  looked  vaguely  round  the 
room. 

'  Bond  lit  one  for  her  and  put  it  between  her  lips.  She 
took  a  deep  lungful  of  smoke  and  let  it  pour  out  through 
her  mouth  with  a  slow  sigh. 

Bond  put  his  arm  round  her,  but  she  got  up  and 
walked  over  to  the  window.  She  stood  there  with  her 
back  to  him. 

Bond  looked  down  at  his  hands  and  saw  they  were 
still  trembling. 

'It's  going  to  take  some  time  to  get  ready  for  dinner,' 
said  Vesper,  still  not  looking  at  him.  'Why  don't  you  go 
and  bathe?  I'll  unpack  for  you.' 

Bond  left  the  bed  and  came  and  stood  close  against 
her.  He  put  his  arms  round  her  and  put  a  hand  over  each 
breast.  They  filled  his  hands  and  the  nipples  were  hard 
against  his  fingers.  She  put  her  hands  over  his  and 
pressed  them  into  her,  but  she  still  looked  away  from 
him  out  of  the  window. 

'Not  now,' she  said  in  a  low  voice 

Bond  bent  and  burrowed  his  lips  into  the  nape  of  her 
neck.  For  a  moment  he  strained  her  hard  to  him,  then  he 
let  her  go. 

'All  right,  Vesper,' he  said. 

He  walked  over  to  the  door  and  looked  back.  She  had 
not  moved.  For  some  reason  he  thought  she  was  crying. 
He  took  a  step  towards  her  and  then  realized  that  there 
was  nothing  to  say  between  them  then. 


156  CASINO  ROYALE 


'My  love,' he  said. 

Then  he  went  out  and  shut  the  door. 

Bond  walked  along  to  his  room  and  sat  down  on  the 
bed.  He  felt  weak  from  the  passion  which  had  swept 
through  his  body.  He  was  torn  between  the  desire  to  fall 
back  full-length  on  the  bed  and  his  longing  to  be  cooled 
and  revived  by  the  sea.  He  played  with  the  choice  for  a 
moment,  then  he  went  over  to  his  suitcase  and  took  out 
white  linen  bathing-trunks  and  a  dark  blue  pyjama-suit. 

Bond  had  always  disliked  pyjamas  and  had  slept 
naked  until  in  Hong  Kong  at  the  end  of  the  war  he  came 
across  the  perfect  compromise.  This  was  a  pyjama-coat 
which  came  almost  down  to  the  knees.  It  had  no 
buttons,  but  there  was  a  loose  belt  round  the  waist.  The 
sleeves  were  wide  and  short,  ending  just  above  the 
elbow.  The  result  was  cool  and  comfortable,  and  now 
when  he  slipped  the  coat  on  over  his  trunks,  all  his 
bruises  and  scars  were  hidden  except  the  thin  white 
bracelets  on  wrists  and  ankles  and  the  mark  of  SMERSH 
on  his  right  hand.  i 

He  slipped  his  feet  into  a  pair  of  dark-blue  leather 
sandals  and  went  downstairs  and  out  of  the  house  and 
across  the  terrace  to  the  beach.  As  he  passed  across  the 
front  of  the  house  he  thought  of  Vesper;  but  he 
refrained  from  looking  up  to  see  if  she  was  still  standing 
at  the  window.  If  she  saw  him,  she  gave  no  sign. 

He  walked  along  the  waterline  on  the  hard  golden 
sand  until  he  was  out  of  sight  of  the  inn.  Then  he  threw 
off  his  pyjama-coat  .and  took  a  short  run  and  a  quick 
flat  dive  into  the  small  waves.  The  beach  shelved  quickly 
and  he  kept  under  water  as  long  as  he  could,  swimming 
with  powerful  strokes  and  feeling  the  soft  coolness  all 
over  him.  Then  he  surfaced  and  brushed  the  hair  out  of 
his  eyes.  It  was  nearly  seven,  and  the  sun  had  lost  much 
of  its  heat.  Before  long  it  would  sink  beneath  the  further 
arm  of  the  bay;  but  now  it  was  straight  in  his  eyes,  and 
he  turned  on  his  back  and  swam  away  from  it  so  that  he 
could  keep  it  with  him  as  long  as  possible. 


TIDE  OF  PASSION 


157 


When  he  came  ashore  nearly  a  mile  down  the  bay  the 
shadows  had  already  engulfed  his  distant  pyjamas;  but 
he  knew  he  had  time  to  lie  on  the  hard  sand  and  dry 
before  the  tide  of  dusk  reached  him. 

He  took  off  his  bathing  trunks  and  looked  down  at 
his  body.  There  were  only  a  few  traces  left  of  his  in- 
juries. He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  lay  down  with  his 
limbs  spread  out  in  a  star  and  gazed  up  at  the  empty 
blue  sky  and  thought  of  Vesper. 

His  feelings  for  her  were  confused,  and  he  was  im- 
patient with  the  confusion.  They  had  been  so  simple.  He 
had  intended  to  sleep  with  her  as  soon  as  he  could, 
because  he  desired  her  and  also  because — he  admitted  it 
to  himself— he  wanted  coldly  to  put  the  repairs  to  his 
body  to  the  final  test.  He  thought  they  would  sleep 
together  for  a  few  days  and  then  he  might  see  something 
of  her  in  London.  Then  would  come  the  inevitable 
disengagement  which  would  be  all  the  easier  because  of 
their  positions  in  the  Service.  If  it  was  not  easy,  he  could 
go  off  on  an  assignment  abroad  or— which  was  also  in 
his  mind — he  could  resign  and  travel  to  different  parts 
of  the  world  as  he  had  always  wanted. 

But  somehow  she  had  crept  under  his  skin,  and  over 
the  last  two  weeks  his  feelings  had  gradually  changed. 

He  found  her  companionship  easy  and  unexacting. 
There  was  something  enigmatic  about  her  which  was  a 
constant  stimulus.  She  gave  little  of  her  real  personality 
away,  and  he  felt  that,  however  long  they  were  together, 
there  would  always  be  a  private  room  inside  her  which 
he  could  never  invade.  She  was  thoughtful  and  full  of 
consideration  without  being  slavish  and  without  com- 
promising her  arrogant  spirit.  And  now  he  knew  that 
she  was  profoundly,  excitingly  sensual,  but  that  the 
conquest  of  her  body,  because  of  the  central  privacy  in 
her,  would  each  time  have  the  tang  of  rape.  Loving  her 
physically  would  each  time  be  a  thrilling  voyage  without 
the  anticlimax  of  arrival.  She  would  surrender  herself 
avidly,  he  thought,  and  greedily  enjoy  all  the  intimacies 


158  .   -|      CASINO  ROYALE  . 

of  the  bed  without  ever  allowing  herself  to  be  possessed. 

Naked,  Bond  lay  and  Jxied  to  push  away  the  con- 
clusions he  read  in  the  sky.  He  turned  his  head  and 
looked  down  the  beach  and  saw  that  the  shadows  of  the 
headland  were  almost  reaching  for  him. 

He  stood  up  and  brushed  off  as  much  of  the  sand  as 
he  could  reach.  He  reflected  that  he  would  have  a  bath 
when  he  got  in  and  he'  absent-mindedly  picked  up  his 
trunks  and  started  walking  back  along  the  beach.  It  was 
only  when  he  reached  his  pyjama-coat  and  bent  to  pick 
it  up  that  he  realized  he  was  still  naked.  Without 
bothering  about  the  trunks,  he  slipped  on  the  light  coat 
and  walked  on  to  the  hotel. 

At  that  moment  his  mind  was  made  up. 


CHAPTER  24 

'Fruit  D§fendu' 


When  he  got  back  to  his  room  he  was  touched  to 
find  all  his  belongings  put  away  and  in  the  bathroom  his 
toothbrush  and  shaving  things  neatly  arranged  at  one 
end  of  the  glass  shelf  over  the  washbasin.  At  the  other 
end  were  Vesper's  toothbrush  and  one  or  two  small 
bottles  and  a  jar  of  face-cream. 

He  glanced  at  the  bottles  and  was  surprised  to  see  that 
one  contained  Nembutal  sleeping  pills.  Perhaps  her 
nerves  had  been  more  shaken  by  the  events  at  the  villa 
than  he  had  imagined. 

The  bath  had  been  filled  for  him,  and  there  was  a  new 
flask  of  some  expensive  pine  bath-essence  on  a  chair 
beside  it  with  his  towel. 

'Vesper,' he  called. 

'Yes?' 

'You  really  are  the  limit.  You  make  me  feel  like  an  ex- 
pensive gigolo.' 

'I  was  told  to  look  after  you.  I'm  only  doing  what  I 
was  told.' 


159 


160 


CASINO  ROYALE 


'Darling,  the  bath's  absolutely  right.  Will  you  marry  \ 
me?' 

She  snorted.  'You  need  a  slave,  not  a  wife. ' 
'I  want  you.' 

'Well,  I  want  my  lobster  and  champagne,  so  hurry 
up.' 

'AH  right,  all  right, '  said  Bond. 
.  He  dried  himself  and  dressed  in  a  white  shirt  and  dark 
blue  slacks.  He  hoped  that  she  would  be  dressed  as 
simply,  and  he  was  pleased  when,  without  knocking,  she 
appeared  in  the  doorway  wearing  a  blue  linen  shirt 
which  had  faded  to  the  colour  of  her  eyes  and  a  dark  red 
skirt  in  pleated  cotton. 

'I  couldn't  wait.  I  was  famished.  My  room's  over  the 
kitchen,  and  I've  been  tortured  by  the  wonderful 
smells.' 

He  came  over  and  put  his  arm  round  her. 

She  took  his  hand,  and  together  they  went  downstairs 
and  out  on  to  the  terrace  where  their  table  had  been  laid 
in  the  light  cast  by  the  empty  dining-room. 

The  champagne  which  Bond  had  ordered  on  their 
arrival  stood  in  a  plated  wine-cooler  beside  their  table, 
and  Bond  poured  out  two  full  glasses.  Vesper  busied 
herself  with  a  delicious  homemade  liver  pate  and  helped 
them  both  to  the  crisp  French  bread  and  the  thick 
squares  of  deep  yellow  butter  set  in  chips  of  ice. 

They  looked  at  each  other  and  drank  deeply,  and 
Bond  filled  their  glasses  again  to  the  rim. 

While  they  ate  Bond  told  her  of  his  bathe,  and  they 
talked  of  what  they  would  do  in  the  morning.  All 
through  the  meal7they  left  unspoken  their  feelings  for 
each  other,  but  in  Vesper's  eyes  as  much  as  in  Bond's 
there  was  excited  anticipation  of  the  night.  They  let  their 
hands  and  feet  touch  from  time  to  time  as  if  to  ease  the 
tension  in  their  bodies. 

When  the  lobster  had  come  and  gone  and  the  second 
bottle  of  champagne  was  half  empty  and  they  had  just 


'FRUIT  DEFENDU' 


161 


ladled  thick  cream  over  their  fraises  des  bois,  Vesper 
gave  a  deep  sigh  of  contentment. 

'I'm  behaving  like  a  pig/  she  said  happily.  'You 
always  give  me  all  the  things  I  like  best.  I've  never  been 
so  spoiled  before.'  She  gazed  across  the  terrace  at  the 
moonlit  bay.  'I  wish  I  deserved  it.'  Her  voice  had  a  wry 
undertone. 

'What  do  you  mean?'  asked  Bond  surprised.  , 

'Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  people  get  what  they 
deserve,  so  perhaps  I  do  deserve  it.' 

She  looked  at  him  and  smiled.  Her  eyes  narrowed 
quizzically.  ' 

'You  really  don't  know  much  about  me,'  she  said 
suddenly. 

Bond  was  surprised  by  the  undertone  of  seriousness  in 
her  voice. 

'Quite  enough,'  he  said  laughing.  'All  I  need  until 
tomorrow  and  the  next  day  and  the  next.  You  don't' 
know  much  about  me  for  the  matter  of  that.'  He  poured 
out  more  champagne. 
.  Vesper  looked  at  him  thoughtfully. 

'People  are  islands,'  she  said.  'They  don't  really 
touch.  However  close  they  are,  they're  really  quite 
separate.  Even  if  they've  been  married  for  fifty  years. ' 

Bond  thought  with  dismay  that  she  must  be  going  into 
a  'vin  triste.'  Tdo  much  champagne  had  made  her 
melancholy.  But  suddenly  she  gave  a  happy  laugh.  , 
'  'Don't  look  so  worried.'  She  leaned  forward  and  put 
her  hand  over  his.  'I  was  only  being  sentimental. 
Anyway,  my  island  feels  very  close  to  your  island 
tonight.' She  took  a  sip  of  champagne. ' 

Bond  laughed,  relieved.  'Let's  join  up  and  make  a 
peninsula,'  he  said.  'Now,  directly  we've  finished  the 
strawberries.' 

'No, '  she  said,  flirting^  'I  must  have  coffee. ' 

'And  brandy,' countered  Bond.  :  ' 

The  small  shadow  had  passed.  The  second  small 


162 


CASINO  ROYALE 


shadow.  This  too  left  a  tiny  question-mark  hanging  in 
the  air.  It  quickly  dissolved  as  warmth  and  intimacy  en- 
closed them  again. 

When  they  had  had  their  coffee  and  Bond  was  sipping 
his  brandy,  Vesper  picked  up  her  bag  and  came  and 
stood  behind  him. 

'I'm  tired,'  she  said,  resting  a  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

He  reached  up  and  held  it  there,  and  they  stayed 
motionless  for  a  moment.  She  bent  down  and  lightly 
brushed  his  hair  with  her  lips.  Then  she  was  gone,  and  a 
few  seconds  later  the  light  came  on  in  her  room. 

Bond  smoked  and  waited  until  it  had  gone  out.  Then 
he  followed  her,  pausing  only  to  say  good  night  to  the 
proprietor  and  his  wife  and  thank  them  for  the  dinner. 
They  exchanged  compliments,  and  he  went  upstairs. 

It  was  only  half-past  nine  when  he  stepped  into  her 
room  from  the  bathroom  and  closed  the  door  behind 
him. 

The  moonlight  shone  through  the  half-closed  shutters 
and  lapped  at  the  secret  shadows  in  the  snow  of  her 
body  on  the  broad  bed. 

Bond  awoke  in  his  own  room  at  dawn,  and  for  a  time 
he  lay  and  stroked  his  memories. 

Then  he  got  quietly  out  of  bed,  and  in  his  pyjama- 
coat  he  crept  past  Vesper's  door  and  out  of  the  house  to 
the  beach. 

The  sea  was  smooth  and  quiet  in  the  sunrise.  The 
small  pink  waves  idly  licked  the  sand.  It  was  cold,  but  he 
took  off  his  jacket  and  wandered  naked  along  the  edge 
of  the  sea  to  the  point  where  he  had  bathed  the  evening 
before,  then  he  walked  slowly  and  deliberately  into  the 
water  until  it  was  just  below  his  chin.  He  took  his  feet 
off  the  bottom  and  sank,  holding  his  nose  with  one 
hand  and  shutting  his  eyes,  feeling  the  cold  water  comb 
his  body  and  his  hair. 

The  mirror  of  the  bay  was  unbroken  except  where  it 
seemed  a  fish  had  jumped.  Under  the  water  he  imagined 


the  tranquil  scene  and  wished  *th«t  Vesper  could'  just 
then  come  through  the  pines  .and  be  astonished  to  see 
him  suddenly  erupt  from  the  empty  seascape. 

When  after  a  full  minute  he  came  to  the  surface  in  a 
froth  of  spray,  he  was  disappointed.  There  was  no  one 
in  sight.  For  a  time  he  swam  and  drifted,  and  then  when 
the  sun  seemed  hot  enough,  he  came  in  to  the  beach  and 
lay  on  his  back  and  revelled  in  the  body  which  the  night 
had  given  back  to  him. 

As  on  the  evening  before,  he  stared  up  into  the  empty 
sky  and  saw  the  same  answer  there. 

After  a  while  he  rose  and  walked  back  slowly  along 
the  beach  to  his  pyjama-coat. 

That  day  he  would  ask  Vesper  to  marry  him.  He  was 
quite  certain.  It  was  only  a  question  of  choosing  the 
right  moment. 


CHAPTER  25 

'Black-patch' 


As  he  walked  quietly  from  the  terrace  into  the 
half^-darkness  of  the  still  shuttered  dining-room,  he  was 
surprised  to  see  Vesper  emerge  from  the  glass-fronted 
telephone  booth  near  the  front  door  and  softly  turn  up 
the  stairs  towards  their  rooms. 

'Vesper,'  he  called,  thinking  she  must  have  had  some 
urgent  message  which  might  concern  them  both. 

She  turned  quickly,  a  hand  up  to  her  mouth. 

For  a  moment  longer  than  necessary  she  stared  at 
him,  her  eyes  wide. 

'What  is  it,  darling?'  he  asked,  vaguely  troubled  and 
fearing  some  crisis  in  their  lives. 

'Oh,'  she  said  breathlessly,  'you  made  me  jump.  It 
was  only  ...  I  was  just  telephoning  to  Mathis.  To 
Mathis,'  she  repeated.  'I  wondered  if  he  could  get  me 
another  frock.  You  know,  from  that  girl-friend  I  told 
you  about.  The  vendeuse.  You  see' — she  talked  quickly, 
her  words  coming  out  in  a  persuasive  jumble — 'I've 


164 


'BLACK-PATCH' 


165 


really  got  nothing  to  wear,  I  thought  I'd  catch  him  at 
home  before  he  went  to  the  office.  I  don't  know  my 
friend's  telephone  number,  and  I  thought  it  would  be  a 
surprise  for  you.  I  didn't  want  you  to  hear  me  moving 
and  wake  you  up.  Is  the  water  nice?  Have  you  bathed? 
You  ought  to  have  waited  for  me. ' 

'It's  wonderful,'  said  Bond,  deciding  to  relieve  her 
mind,  though  irritated  with  her  obvious  guilt  over  this 
childish  mystery.  'You  must  go  in,  and  then  we'll  have 
breakfast  on  the  terrace.  I'm  ravenous.  I'm  sorry  I 
made  you  jump.  I  was  just  startled  to  see  anyone  about 
at  this  hour  of  the  morning." 

He  put  his  arm  round  her;  but  she  disengaged  herself, 
and  moved  quickly  on  up  the  stairs.  : 

'It  was  such  a  surprise  to  see  you,'  she  said,  trying  to 
cover  the  incident  up  with  a  light  touch. 

'You  looked  like,  a  ghost,  a  drowned  man,  with  the 
hair  down  over  your  eyes  like;:  that.'  She  laughed 
harshly.  Hearing  the  harshness,  she  turned  the  laugh 
into  a  cough.  ; . 

'I  hope  I  haven't  caught  cold/ she  said. 

She  kept  on  patching  up  the  edifice  of  her  deceit  until 
Bond  wanted  to  spank  her  and  tell  her  to  relax  and  tell 
the  truth.  Instead  he  just  gave  her  a  reassuring  pat  on 
the  back  outside  her  room  and  told  her  to  hurry  up  and 
have  her  bathe. 

Then  he  went  on  to  his  room.  * 

That  was  the  end  of  the  integrity  of  their  love.  The 
succeeding  days  were  a  shambles  of  falseness  and 
hypocrisy,  mingled  with  her  tears  and  moments  of 
animal  passion  to  which  she  abandoned  herself  with 
greed  made  indecent  by  the  hollowness  of  their  days. 

Several  times  Bond  tried  to  break  down  the  dreadful 
walls  of  mistrust.  Again  and  again  he  brought  Up  the 
subject  of  the  telephone  call;  but  she  obstinately 
bolstered  Up  her  story  with  embellishments  which  Bond 
knew  she  had  thought  out  afterwards.  She  even  accused 
Bond  of  thinking  she  had  another  lover. 


166 


CASINO  ROYALE 


These  scenes  always  ended  in  her  bitter  tears  and  in 
moments  almost  of  hysteria. 

Each  day  the  atmosphere  became  more  hateful . 

It  seemed  fantastic  to  Bond  that  human  relationships 
could  collapse  into  dust  overnight,  and  he  searched  his 
mind  again  and  again  for  a  reason. 

He  felt  that  Vesper  was  just  as  horrified  as  he  was, 
and,  if  anything,  her  misery  seemed  greater  than  his. 
But  the  mystery  of  the  telephone  conversation  which 
Vesper  angrily,  almost  fearfully  it  seemed  to  Bond, 
refused  to  explain  was  a  shadow  which  grew  darker  with 
other  small  mysteries  and  reticences. 

Already  at  luncheon  on  that  day  things  got  worse. 

After  a  breakfast  which  was  an  effort  for  both  of 
them,  Vesper  said  she  had  a  headache  and  would  stay  in 
her  room  out  of  the  sun.  Bond  took  a  book  and  walked 
for  miles  down  the  beach.  By  the  time  he  returned  he 
had  argued  to  himself  that  they  would  be  able  to  sort  the 
problem  out  over  lunch. 

Directly  they  sat  down,  he  apologized  gaily  for  having 
startled  her  at  the  telephone  booth  and  then  he 
dismissed  the  subject  and  went  on  to  describe  what  he 
had  seen  on  his  walk.  But  Vesper  was  distrait  and  com- 
mented only  in  monosyllables.  She  toyed  With  her  food, 
and  she  avoided  Bond's  eyes  and  gazed  past  him  with  an 
air  of  preoccupation. 

When  she  had  failed  once  or  twice  to  respond  to  some 
conversational  gambit  or  other,  Bond  also  relapsed  into 
silence  and  occupied  himself  with  his  own  gloomy 
thoughts. 

All  of  a  sudden  she  stiffened.  Her  fork  fell  with  a 
clatter  on  to  the  edge  of  her  plate  and  then  noisily  off 
the  table  on  to  the  terrace. 

Bond  looked  up.  She  had  gone  as  white  as  a  sheet, 
and  she  was  looking  over  his  shoulder  with  terror  in  her 
face. 

Bond  turned  his  head  and  saw  that  a  man  had  just 
taken  his  place  at  a  table  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 


'BLACK-PATCH*  -  ■  1j37 

terrace,  well  away  from  them.  He  seemed  ordinary 
enough,  perhaps  rather  sombrely  dressed;  but  in  his  first 
quick  glance  Bond  put  him  down  as  some  businessman 
on  his  way  along  the  coast  who  had  just  happened  on 
the  inn  or  had  picked  it  out  of  the  Michelin. 

'What  is  it,  darling? '  he  asked  anxiously. 

Vesper's  eyes  never  moved  from  the  distant  figure. 

'It's  the  man  in  the  car,'  she  said  in  a  stifled  voice. 
'The  man  who  was  following  us.  I  know  it  is. ' 

Bond  looked  again  over  his  shoulder.  The  patron  was 
discussing  the  menu  with  the  new  customer.  It  was  a 
perfectly  normal  scene.  They  exchanged  smiles  over 
some  item  on  the  menu  and  apparently  agreed  that  it 
would  suit,  for  the  patron  took  the  card  and  with,  Bond 
guessed,  a  final  exchange  about  the  wine,  withdrew. 

The  man  seemed  to  realize  that  he  was  being  watched. 
He  looked  up  and  gazed  incuriously  at  them  for  a 
moment.  Then  he  reached  for  a  brief-case  on  the  chair 
beside  him,  extracted  a  newspaper,  and  started  to  read 
it,  his  elbows  propped  up  on  the  table. 

When  the  man  had  turned  his  face  towards  them, 
Bond  noticed  that  he  had  a  black  patch  over  one  eye.  It 
was  not  tied  with  a  tape  across,  the  eye,  but  screwed  in 
like  a  monocle.  Otherwise  he  seemed  a  friendly  middle- 
aged  man,  with  dark  brown  hair  brushed  straight  back 
and,  as  Bond  had  seen  while  he  was  talking  to  the 
patron,  particularly  large,  white  teeth. 

He  turned  back  to  Vesper.  'Really,  darling.  He  looks 
very  innocent.  Are  you  sure  he's  the  same  man?  We 
can' t  expect  to  have  this  place  entirely  to  ourselves. ' 

Vesper's  face  was  still  a  white  mask.  She  was  clutching 
the  edge  of  the  table  with  both  hands.  He  thought  she 
was  going  to  faint  and  almost  rose  to  come  round  to 
her,  but  she  made  a  gesture  to  stop  him.  Then  she 
reached  for  a  glass  of  wine  and  took  a  deep  draught. 
The  glass  rattled  on  her  teeth,  and  she  brought  up  her 
other  hand  to  help.  Then  she  put  the  glass  down. 

She  looked  at  him  with  dull  eyes. 


168 


CASINO  ROYALE 


'I  know  it's  the  same.' 

He  tried  to  reason  with  her,  but  she  paid  no  attention. 
After  glancing  once  or  twice  over  his  shoulder  with  eyes 
that  held  a  curious  submissiveness,  she  said  that  her 
headache  was  still  bad  and  that  she  would  spend  the 
afternoon  in  her  room.  She  left  the  table  and  walked  in- 
doors without  a  backward  glance. 

Bond  was  determined  to  set  her  mind  at  rest.  He 
ordered  coffee  to  be  brought  to  the  table,  and  then  he 
rose  and  walked  swiftly  through  to  the  courtyard.  The 
black  Peugeot  which  stood  there  might  indeed  have 
been  the  saloon  they  had  seen,  but  it  might  equally  have 
been  one  of  a  million  others  on  the  French  roads.  He 
took  a  quick  glance  inside,  but  the  interior,  was  empty 
and  when  he  tried  the  boot,  it  was  locked.  He  made  a 
note  of  the  Paris  number-plate;  then  he  went  quickly  to 
the  lavatory  adjoining  the  dining-room,  pulled  the 
chain,  and  walked  out  on  to  the  terrace. 

The  man  was  eating  and  didn't  look  up. 

Bond  sat  down  in  Vesper's  chair  so  that  he  could 
watch  the  other  table.  . 

A  few  minutes  later  the  man  asked  for  the  bill,  paid  it, 
andieft.  Bond  heard  the  Peugeot  start  up,  and  soon  the 
noise  of  its  exhaust  had  disappeared  in  the  direction  of 
the  road  to  Royale. 

When  the  patron  came  back  to  his  table,  Bond  ex- 
plained that  Madame  had  unfortunately  a  slight  touch 
of  sunstroke.  After  the  patron  had  expressed  his  regret 
and  enlarged  on  the  dangers  of  going  out  of  doors  in 
almost  any  weather,  Bond  casually  asked  about  the 
other  customer.  'He  reminds  me  of  a  friend  who  also 
lost  an  eye.  They  wear  similar  black  patches.' 

The  patron  answered  that  the  man  was  a  stranger.  He 
had  been  pleased  with  his  lunch  and  had  said  that  he 
would  be  passing  that  way  again  in  a  day  or  two  and 
would  take  another  meal  at  the  auberge.  Apparently  he 
was  Swiss,  which  could  also  be  seen  from  his  accent.  He 
was  a  traveller  in  watches.  It  was  shocking  to  have  only 


'BLACK-PATCH' 


169 


one  eye.  The  strain  of  keeping  that  patch  in  place  all  day 
long.  He  supposed  one  got  used  to  it. 

'It  is  indeed  very  sad,'  said  Bond.  'You  also  have  been 
unlucky,'  he  gestured  to  the  proprietor's  empty  sleeve. 
'I  myself  was  very  fortunate. ' 

For  a  time  they  talked  about  the  war.  Then  Bond 
rose. 

'By  the  way,'  he  said,  'Madame  had  an  early 
telephone  call  which  I  must  remember  to  pay  for.  Paris. 
An  Elysee  number,  I  think,'  he  added,  remembering 
that  that  was  Mathis's  exchange. 

'Thank  you,  monsieur,  but  the  matter  is  regulated.  I 
was  speaking  to  Royale  this  morning  and  the  exchange 
mentioned  that  one  of  my  guests  had  put  through  a  call 
to  Paris  and  that  there  had  been  no  answer.  They 
wanted  to  know  if  Madame  would  like  the  call  kept  in. 
I'm  afraid  the  matter  escaped  my  mind.  Perhaps  Mon- 
sieur would  mention  it  to  Madame.  But,  let  me  see,  it 
was  an  Invalides  number  the  exchange  referred  to. ' 


CHAPTER  26 

'Sleep  Well,  My  Darling' 


The  next  two  days  were  much  the  same. 

On  the  fourth  day  of  their  stay  Vesper  went  off  early 
to  Royale.  A  taxi  came  and  fetched  her  and  brought  her 
back.  She  said  she  needed  some  medicine. 

That  night  she  made  a  special  effort  to  be  gay.  She 
drank  a  lot,  and  when  they  went  upstairs  she  led  him 
into  her  bedroom  and  made  passionate  love  to  him. 
Bond's  body  responded;  but  afterwards  she  cried  bit- 
terly into  her  pillow,  and  Bond  went  to  his  room  in  grim 
despair.  < 

He  could  hardly  sleep,  and  in  the  early  hours  he  heard 
her  door  open  softly.  Some  small  sounds  came  from 
downstairs.  He  was  sure  she  was  in  the  telephone-booth. 
Very  soon  he  heard  her  door  softly  close,  and  he  guessed 
that  again  there  had  been  no  reply  from  Paris. 

This  was  Saturday. 

On  Sunday  the  man  with  the  black  patch  was  back 
again.  Bond  knew  it,  directly  he  looked  up  from  his 
lunch  and  saw  her  face.  He  had  told  her  all  that  the 


170 


'SLEEP  WELL,  MY  DARLING 


171 


patron  had  told  him,  withholding  only  the  man's 
statement  that  he  might  be  back.  He  had  thought  it 
would  worry  her. 

He  had  also  telephoned  Mathis  in  Paris  and  checked 
on  the  Peugeot.  It  had  been  hired  from  a  respectable 
firm  two  weeks  before.  The  customer  had  had  a  Swiss 
triptique.  His  name  was  Adoiph  Gettler.  He  had  given  a 
bank  in  Zurich  as  his  address. 

Mathis  had  got  on  to  the  Swiss  police.  Yes,  the  bank 
had  an  account  in  his  name.  It  was  little  used-  Herr 
Gettler  was  understood  to  be  connected  with  the  watch 
industry.  Inquiries  could  be  pursued  if  there  was  a 
charge  against  him. 

Vesper  had  shrugged  her  shoulders  at  the  in- 
formation. 

This  time  when  the  man  appeared  she  left  her  lunch  in 
the  middle  and  went  straight  up  to  her  room. 

Bond  made  up  his  mind.  When  he  had  finished,  he 
followed  her.  Both  her  doors  were  locked,  and  when  he 
made  her  let  him  in  he  saw  that  she  had  been  sitting  in 
the  shadows  by  the  window— watching,  he  presumed. 

Her  face  was  of  cold  stone.  He  led  her  to  the  bed  and 
drew  her  down  beside  him.  They  sat  stiffly,  like  people 
in  a  railway  carriage.  ' 

'Vesper,'  he  said,  holding  her  cold  hands  in  his,  'we 
can't  go  on  like  this.  We  must  finish  with  it.  We  are  tor- 
turing each  other,  and  there  is  only  one  way  of  stopping 
it.  Either  you  must  tell  me  what  all  this  is  about  or  we 
must  leave.  At  once.' 

She  said  nothing,  and  her  hands  were  lifeless  in  his. 

'My  darling,'  he  said.  'Won't  you  tell  me?  Do  you 
know,  that  first  morning  I  was  coming  back  to  ask  you 
to  marry  me.  Can't  we  go  back  to  the  beginning  again? 
What  is  this  dreadful  nightmare  that  is  killing  us? ' 

At  first  she  said  nothing,  then  a  tear  rolled  slowly 
down  her  cheek. 

'You  mean  you  would  have  married  me?' 

Bond  nodded. 


172  CASINO  ROYALE  \ 

'Oh,  my  God!'  she  cried.  'My  God!'  She  turned  and 
clutched  him,  pressing  her  face  against  his  chest. 

He  held  her  closely  to  him.  'Tell  me,  my  love,'  he  j 
said. 'Tell  me  what's  hurting  you.' 

Her  sobs  became  quieter.  '•■ 

'Leave  me  for  a  little,' she  said.  A  new  note  had  come 
'  into  her  voice:  a  note  of  resignation.  'Let  me  think  for  a 
little.'  She  kissed  his  face  and  held  it  between  her  hands. 
She  looked  at  him  with  yearning.  'Darling,  I'm  trying  to 
do  what's  best  for  us.  Please  believe  me.  But  it's 
terrible.  I'm  in  a  frightful . . .'  She  wept  again,  clutching 
him  like  a  child  with  nightmares. 

He  soothed  her,  stroking  the  long  black  hair  and 
kissing  her  softly. 

'Go  away  now,'  she  said.  'I  must  have  time  to  think. 
We've  got  to  do  something.' 

She  took  his  handkerchief  and  dried  her  eyes. 

She  led  him  to  the  door,  and  there  they  held  tightly  to 
each  other.  Then  he  kissed  her  again,  and  she  shut  the 
door  behind  him. 

That  evening  most  of  the  gayness  and  intimacy  of 
their  first  night  came  back.  She  was  excited,  and  some 
of  her  laughter  sounded  brittle;,  but  Bond  was  deter- 
mined to  fall  in  with  her  new  mood,  and  it  was  only  at 
the  end  of  dinner  that  he  had  made  a  passing  remark 
which  made  her  pause. 

She  put  her  hand  over  his. 

'Don't  talk  about  it  now,'  she  said.  'Forget  it  now. 
It's  all  past.  I'll  tell  you  about  it  in  the  morning.' 

She  looked  at  him,  and  suddenly  her  eyes  were  full  of 
tears.  She  found  a  handkerchief  in  her  bag  and  dabbed 
at  them. 

'Give  me  some  more  champagne,'  she  said.  She  gave 
a  queer  little  laugh.  'I  want  a  lot  more.  You  drink  much 
more  than  me.  It's  not  fair.' 

They  sat  and  drank  together  until  the  bottle  was 
finished.  Then  she  got  to  her  feet.  She  knocked  against 
her  chair  and  giggled. 


'SLEEP  WELL,  MY  DARLING* 


173 


'I  do  believe  I'm  tight,'  she  said.  'How  disgraceful! 
Please,  James,  don't  be  ashamed  of  me.  I  do  so  want  to 
be  gay.  And  I  am  gay.' 

She  stood  behind  him  and  ran  her  fingers  through  his 
black  hair. 

'Come  up  quickly, '  she  said. 

She  blew  a  kiss  at  him  and  was  gone. 

For  two  hours  they  made  slow,  sweet  love  in  a  mood 
of  happy  passion  which,  the  day  before,  Bond  would 
never  have  thought  they  could  regain.  The  barriers  of 
self-consciousness  and  mistrust  seemed  to  have 
vanished;  the  words  they  spoke  to  each  other  were  in- 
nocent and  true  again,  and  there  was  no  shadow  be- 
tween them. 

'You  must  go  now,'  said  Vesper  when  Bond  had  slept 
for  a  while  in  her  arms. 

As  if  to  take  back  her  words  she  held  him  more 
closely  to  her,  murmuring  endearments  and  pressing  her 
body  down  the  whole  length  of  his. 

When  he  finally  rose  and  bent  to  smooth  back  her 
hair  and  finally  kiss  her  eyes  and  her  mouth  good  night, 
she  reached  out  and  turned  on  the  light. 

'Look  at  me,'  she  said,  'and  let  me  look  at  you.' 

He  knelt  beside  her. 

She  examined  every  line  of  his  face  as  if  she  were 
seeing  him  for  the  first  time.  Then  she  reached  up  and 
put  an  arm  round  his  neck.  Her  deep  blue -eyes  were 
swimming  with  tears  as  she  drew  his  head  slowly  to- 
wards her  and  kissed  him  gently  on  the  lips.  Then  she  let 
him  go  and  turned  off  the  light. 

'Good  night,  my  dearest  love, '  she  said. 

Bond  bent  and  kissed  her.  He  tasted  the  tears  on  her 
cheek.  . 

He  Went  to  the  door  and  looked  back. 

'Sleep  well,  my  darling,'  he  said.  'Don't  worry, 
everything's  all  right  now. ' 

He  closed  the  door  softly  and  walked  to  his  room  with  ' 
a  full  heart. 


CHAPTER  27 

The  Bleeding  Heart 


The  patron  brought  him  the  letter  in  the 
morning. 

He  burst  into  Bond's  room,  holding  the  envelope  in 
front  of  him  as  if  it  were  on  fire. 

'There  has  been  a  terrible  accident.  Madame — ' 

Bond  hurled  himself  out  of  bed  and  through  the 
bathroom,  but  the  communicating  door  was  locked.  He 
dashed  back  and  through  his  room  and  down  the 
corridor  past  a  shrinking,  terrified  maid. 

Vesper's  door  was  open.  The  sunlight  through  the 
shutters  lit  up  the  room.  Only  her  black  hair  showed 
aboye  the  sheet,  and  her  body  under  the  bedclothes  was 
straight  and  moulded  like  a  stone  effigy  on  a  tomb. 

Bond  fell  on  his  knees  beside  her  and  drew  back  the 
sheet. 

She  was  asleep.  She  must  be.  Her 'eyes  were  closed. 
There  was  no  change  in  the  dear  face.  She  was  just  as 
she  would  look,  and  yet,  and  yet  she  was  so  still — no 


174 


THE  BLEEDING  HEART 


175 


movement,  no  pulse,  no  breath.  That  was  it.  There  was 
no  breath. 

Later  the  patron  came  and  touched  him  on  the 
shoulder.  He  pointed  at  the  empty  glass  on  the  table 
beside  her.  There  were  white  dregs  in  the  bottom  of  it.  It 
stood  beside  her  book  and  her  cigarettes  and  matches 
and  the  small  pathetic  litter  of  her  mirror  and  lipstick 
and  handkerchief.  And  on  the  floor  the  empty  bottle  of 
sleeping-pills,  the  pills  Bond  had  seen  in  the  bathroom 
that  first  evening. 

Bond  rose  to  his  feet  and  shook  himself.  The  patron 
was  still  holding  out  the  letter  towards  him.  He  took  it. 

'Please  notify  the  Commissaire,'  said  Bond.  'I  will  be 
in  my  roW  when  he  wants  me. ' 

He  walked  blindly  away  without  a  backward  glance. 

He  sat  on  the  edge  of  his  bed  and  gazed  out  of  the 
window  at  the  peaceful  sea.  Then  he  stared  dully  at  the 
.  envelope.  It  was  addressed  simply  in  a  large  round 
hand,  'Pour  Lui.' 

The  thought  passed  through  Bond's  mind  that  she 
must  have  left  orders  to  be  called  early,  so  that  he  would 
not  be  the  one  to  find  her.  , 

He  turned  the  envelope  over.  Not  long  ago  her  warm 
tongue  had  sealed  the  flap. 

He  gave  a  sudden  shrug  and  opened  it. 

It  was  not  long.  After  the  first  few  words  he  read  it 
quickly,  the  breath  coming  harshly  through  his  nostrils. 

Then  he  threw  it  down  on  the  bed  as  if  it  had  been  a 
scorpion. 

My  darling  James  [the  letter  opened], 

I  love  you  with  all  my  heart,  and  while  you  read 
these  words  I  hope  you  still  love  me  because,  now, 
.  with  these  words,  this  is  the  last  moment  that  your 
love  will  last.  So  goodbye,  my  sweet  love,  while  we 
still  love  each  other.  Goodbye,  my  darling. 
I  am  an  agent  of  the  M. W.D.  Yes,  I  am  a 


CASINO  ROYALE 


double  agent  for  the  Russians.  I  was  taken  on  a 
year  after  the  war,  and  I  have  worked  for  them 
ever  since.  I  was  in  love  with  a  Pole  in  the  R.A.F. 
Until  you,  I  still  was.  You  can  find  out  who  he 
was.  He  had  two  D.S.O.'s,  and  after  the  war  he 
was  trained  by  M.  and  dropped  back  into  Poland. 
They  caught  him,  and  by  torturing  him  they  found 
out  a  lot  and  also  about  me.  They  came  after  me 
and  told  me  he  could  live  if  I  would  work  for 
them.  He  knew  nothing  of  this,  but  he  was 
allowed  'to  write  to  me.  The  letter  arrived  on  the 
fifteenth  of  each  month.  I  found  I  couldn't  stop.  I 
couldn't  bear  the  idea  of  a  fifteenth  coming  round 
without  his  letter.  It  would  mean  that  I  had  killed 
him.  I  tried  to  give  them  as  little  as  possible.  You 
must  believe  me  about  this.  Then  it  came  to  you.  I 
told,  them  you  had  been  given  this  job. at  Royale, 
what  your  cover  was,  and  so  on.  That  is  why  they 
knew  about  you  before  you  arrived,  and  why  they 
had  time  to  put  the  microphones  in.  They  sus- 
pected Le  Chiffre,  but  they  didn't  know  what  your 
assignment  was  except  that  it  was  something  to  do 
with  him.  That  was  all  I  told  them. 

Then  I  was  told  not  to  stand  behind  you  in  the 
Casino,  and  to  see  that  neither  Mathis  nor  Leiter 
did.  That  was  why  the  gunman  was  nearly  able  to 
shoot  you.  Then  I  had  to  stage  that  kidnapping. 
You  may  have  wondered  why  I  was  so  quiet  in  the 
night  club.  They  didn't  hurt  me  because  I  was 
working  for  M.W.D. 

But. when  I  found  out  what  had  been  done  to 
you,  even  though  it  was  Le  Chiffre  who  did  it  and 
he  turned  out  to  be  a  traitor,  I  decided  I  couldn't 
go  on.  By  that  time  I  had  begun  to  fall  in  love  with 
you.  They  wanted  me  to  find  out  things  from  you 
while  you  were  recovering,  but  I  refused.  I  was 
controlled  from  Paris.  I  had  to  ring  up  an  In- 
valides  number  twice  a  day.  They  threatened  me; 


THE  BLEEDING  HEART 


177 


and  finally  they  withdrew  my  control,  and  I  knew 
my  lover  in  Poland  would  have  to  die.  But  they 
were  afraid  I  would  talk,  I  suppose,  and  I  got  a 
final  warning  that  SMERSH  would  come  for  me  if  I 
didn't  obey  them.  I  took  no  notice,  I  was  in  love 
with  you.  Then  I  saw  the  man  with  the  black  patch 
in  the  Splendide,  and  I  found  he  had  been  making 
inquiries  about  my  movements.  This  was  the  day 
before  we  came  down  here.  I  hoped  I  could  shake 
him  off.  I  decided  that  we  would  have  an  affair 
and  I  Would  escape  to  South  America  from  Le 
Havre.  I  hoped  I  would  have  a  baby  of  yours  and 
be  able  to  start  again  somewhere.  But  they 
followed  us.  You  can't  get  away  from  them. 

I  knew  it  would  be  the  end  of  our  love  if  I  told 
you.  I  realized  that  I  could  either  wait  to  be  killed 
by  Smersh  and  perhaps  get  you  killed  too,  or  I 
could  kill  myself. 

There  it  is,  my  darling  love.  You  can't  stop  me 
calling  you  that  or  saying  that  I  love  you.  I  am 
taking  that  with  me,  and  the  memories  of  you. 

I  can't  tell  yoU  much  to  help  you.  The  Paris 
number  was  Invalides  55200.  I  never  met  any  of 
them  in  London.  Everything  was  done  through  an 
accommodation  address,  a  news-agent's  at  450 
Charing  Cross  Place. 

At  our  first  dinner  together  you  talked  about 
that  man  in  Yugoslavia  who  was  found  guilty  of 
treason.  He  said:  'I  was  carried  away  by  the  gale 
of  the  world.'  That's  my  only  excuse.  That,  and 
for  love  of  the  man  whose  life  I  tried  to  save. 

It's  late  now  and  I'm  tired,  and  you're  just 
through  two  doors.  But  I've  got  to  be  brave.  You 
might  save  my  life,  but  I  couldn't  bear  the  look  in 
your  dear  eyes. 

My  love,  my  love. 

V. 


178 


CASINO  ROYALE 


Bond  threw  the  letter  down.  Mechanically  he  brushed 
his  fingers  together.  Suddenly  he  banged  his  temples 
with  his  fists  and  stood  up.  For  a  moment  he  looked  out 
towards  the  quiet  sea,  then  he  cursed  aloud,  One  harsh 
obscenity. 

His  eyes  were  wet,  and  he  dried  them. 

He  pulled  on  a  shirt  and  trousers,  and  with  a  set  cold 
face  he  walked  down  and  shut  himself  in  the  telephone- 
booth. 

While  he  was  getting  through  to  London,  he  calmly 
reviewed  the  facts  of  Vesper's  letter.  They  all  fitted.  The 
little  shadows  and  question  marks  of  the  past  four 
weeks,  which  his  instinct  had  noted  but  his  mind  re- 
jected, all  stood  out  now  like  signposts. 

He  saw  her  now  only  as  a  spy.  Their  love  and  his  grief 
were  relegated  to  the  boxroom  of  his  mind.  Later, 
perhaps  they  would  be  dragged  out,  dispassionately 
examined,  and  then  bitterly  thrust  back  with  other  sen- 
timental baggage  he  would  rather  forget.  Now  he  could 
only  think  of  her  treachery  to  the  Service  and  to  her 
country,  and  of  the  damage  it  had  done.  His 
professional  mind  was  completely  absorbed  with  the 
consequences — the  covers  which  must  have  been  blown 
over  the  years,  the  codes  which  the  enemy  must  have 
broken,  the  secrets  which  must  have  leaked  from  the 
centre  of  the  very  section  devoted  to  penetrating  the 
Soviet  Union. 

It  was  ghastly.  God  knew  how  the  mess  would  be 
cleared  up. 

He  ground  his  teeth.  Suddenly  Mathis's  words  came 
back  to  him:  'There  are  plenty  of  really  black  targets 
around,'  and,  earlier,  'What  about  SMERSH?  I  don't  like 
the  idea  of  these  chaps  running  around  France  killing 
anyone  they  feel  has  been  a  traitor  to  their  precious 
political  system.' 

Bond  grinned  bitterly  to  himself. 

How  soon  Mathis  had  been  proved  right,  and  how 


Y/'.'--;-  '-:'  >i--" ••'  '   THE BLEEDING  HEART"  .  179  - 

soon  his  own  little  sophistries  had  been  exploded  in  his 
face! 

While  he,  Bond,  had  been  playing  Red  Indians 
through  the  years  (yes,  Le  Chiffre's  description  was  per- 
fectly accurate),  the  real  enemy  had  been  working 
quietly,  coldly,  without  heroics,  right  there  at  his  elbow. 

He  suddenly  had  a  vision  of  Vesper  walking  down  a 
corridor  with  documents  in  her  hand.  On  a  tray.  They 
just  got  it  on  a  tray  while  the  cool  secret  agent  with  a 
Double  O  number  was  gallivanting  round  the 
world— playing  Red  Indians. 

His  fingernails  dug  into  the  palms  of  his  hands,  and 
his  body  sweated  with  shame. 

Well,  it  was  not  too  late.  Here  was  a  target  for  him, 
right  to  hand.  He  would  take  on  SMERSH  and  hunt  it 
down*  Without  smersh,  without  this  cold  weapon  of 
death  and  revenge,  the  M.W.D.  would  be  just  another 
bunch  of  civil  servant  spies,  no  better  and  no  worse  than 
any  of  the  western  services.  •  .  ■  , 

SMERSH  was  the  spur.  Be  faithful,  spy  well,  or  you 
die.  Inevitably  and  without  any  question,  you  will  be 
hunted  down  and  killed. 

It  was  the  same  with  the  whole  Russian  machine.  Fear 
was  the  impulse.  For  them  it  was  always  safer  to  ad-' 
Vance  than  to  retreat.  Advance  against  the  enemy,  and 
the  bullet  might  miss  you.  Retreat,  evade,  betray,  and 
the  bullet  would  never  miss.- 

But  now  he  would  attack  the  arm  that  held  the  whip 
and  the  gun.  The  business  of  espionage  could  be  left  to 
the  white-collar  boys.  They  could  spy  and  catch  the 
spies.  He  would  go  after  the  threat  behind  the  spies,  the 
threat  that  made  them  spy. 

The  telephone  rang,  and  Bond  snatched  up  the 
receiver. 

He  was  on  to  'the  Link,'  the  outside  liaison  officer 
who  was  the  only  man  in  London  he  might  telephone 
from  abroad.  Then  only  in  dire  necessity. 


180 


CASINO  ROYALE 


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'This  is  007  speaking.  This  is-  an  open.  line.  It's  an 
emergency.  Can  you  hear  me?  .  .  .  Pass  this  on  at  once: 
3030  was  a  double,  working  for  Redland.  .  .  . 

'Yes,  dammit,  I  said  "was. "  The  bitch  is  dead  now. ' 


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